


The Fountain

by burymeinziam



Series: The Fountain [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Angst, Coming of Age, Fountain of Youth, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Romance, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-12 09:34:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 23,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which Liam never dies and Zayn wants to spend forever with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The End

Liam really feels it when the nights are cold and the fire is casting a warm glow around the living room where he’s curled up with his father’s favorite book. The armchair is empty, but the blanket his mother had knitted when he was a kid is still draped over the back and if Liam looks close enough he can see the grape juice his younger sister had spilled on the arm rest.

He can picture his dad sitting in the chair drinking his nightly cup of coffee while his mother hums the song her mother used to sing to her as she washes the dishes they’d all used for dinner. His sister might be playing with one of her dolls in front of the fireplace, conjuring up fantasy weddings deep within the realms of her imagination and Liam would sit back and drink it all in because this is his family.

Only he isn’t because at the time, Liam is only concerned with grandiose adventures and “getting out” and seeing the world. He’s preoccupied with the idea of danger and magic and everything that isn’t his boring life of early mornings and long days spent tending to his family’s farm.

Now, years later (and more than he would like to count), Liam longs for those moments spent on his father’s knee listening to stories of how one day everything they have will be his. He yearns for early mornings of waking up with the sun to tend to cows and chickens. He misses his little sister sitting in the living room with their mother learning to sew.

Liam longs for the simplicity of his old life before he knew the meaning of love and loss and how unfortunately intertwined the two really are.

He just wishes he hadn’t been so selfish and ambitious and absorbed.

Liam wishes that he’d thought about the consequences and what forever truly meant.

Because it isn’t romantic and it isn’t beautiful. It’s not graceful nouns and pretty adjectives strung together to make poetry.

It’s cold and it’s harsh and it’s lonely and Liam would give anything to close his eyes and fall into darkness because, with the way things are looking, there is no light.

+

Nobody seems to understand why Zayn cares so much about the bird that ran into their living room window. At eight-years-old, his parents expected him to maybe become a little upset about the bird dying in their front yard and perhaps they’d have to explain that sometimes things die and go to heaven, but the bird is in a better place now.

No one expected Zayn to run outside and take the bird into his arms and will it back to life. His parents surely didn’t expect him to care enough to want to hold a funeral for the bird, to want to find the birds family and let them know what happened.

At eight-years-old no one really expected Zayn to be so caring and empathetic to something outside of himself, especially something as arbitrary as a little bird that flew into their living room window.

But he was; and he did.

Zayn’s parents gave him a little shoe box and they let him tuck the bird safely inside before sealing it shut with some duct tape from the garage and they let him bury the bird in the front yard. His parents didn’t attend the funeral; it was just Zayn and the bird and the few words the little boy could think to say about a creature he’d never even gotten the chance to know.

But there’s a man standing across the street with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans watching this eight-year-old boy give a eulogy about life and how he hopes the bird had a good life and that he isn’t so sad about dying because his mom told him he’s probably in a good place and Zayn hopes that is true.

The man can’t hear every word this little boy is saying, but he can feel the sincerity and it’s something he’s never really seen before. People don’t usually feel this way about things they don’t know and here is this boy mourning something so outside of himself in a way that feels easy and honest; like it’s something he knows just needs to be done; like it’s deserved.

It’s in the way he holds the box like it’s fragile; something sacred and meant to be treasured. His eyes are warm and caring and he looks down at the makeshift coffin like he can see into it. He looks at it as if it were an old friend. It’s like he misses and cares for the bird even though he’d never known it and he’ll never get the chance to because the bird is dead and there’s no chance of it coming back.

The man thinks this boy is special; that he knows something or is in on some secret that nobody else has been told. It’s like he sees things and feels for them in a way unlike anyone the man has ever known and it’s intriguing; it draws him in and makes him want to know this little boy. 

Before he can think twice about his decision, he’s crossing the street and stopping a few feet in front of the little boy with the big hazel eyes that seem to hold and the hope in the world and he wonders what this boy is hoping for and he wonders if he’ll get it.

“Hi.”

The boy looks up, sees the man and he smiles even though it’s a little sad. “Hi.”

“What are you doing?”

He feels weird talking to people, even if this is just a little boy burying a bird in his front yard. It’s just that he doesn’t do this. He doesn’t get to know people. He doesn’t learn their names or their ages or their lives. He doesn’t chance growing close and forming relationships because when it comes down to it, whether they mean to or not, everybody leaves.

“He died,” the boy says. “He flew into the window and died and… my mom said he probably went to heaven and he’s probably happy now, but I wanted to give him a funeral.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“I don’t think he has any family.” The boy pauses, looks up the sky as he thinks for a moment. “Well, he probably does but I don’t know where they are and nobody deserves to be alone so I decided to be his friend.”

_Nobody deserves to be alone._

He thinks about this for a moment and this boy seems so wise beyond his years and he doesn’t even know it. It’s more than likely his first experience with death and he already understands more than kids twice his age. He understands the pain and the loneliness and the loss. He may not have experienced it on a very personal level since this was just a bird and he had no real attachment to it, but it didn’t make the situation any less amazing.

“What’s your name?” The boy asks after a few moments of silence and he’s looking like this is the most simple question in the world.

But it isn’t; not really. A name is so much more than a combination of letters attached to a person. It’s more than just a label or an identity. It’s the beginning of a relationship; it’s getting to know someone and setting himself up for attachment. It’s putting himself out there and trusting.

“My name?”

The boy nods.

“Liam.”

The boy smiles and his eyes light up the slightest bit and his missing a few teeth, but Liam can see where the new ones are beginning to grow in. it’s nice though, and it’s innocent and even though he isn’t sure it’s the best idea, Liam thinks he’s made a friend.

“I’m Zayn.”

And there it is; the beginning of the end.

+

Against his better judgment, Liam makes an effort to visit Zayn from time to time. It’s never for too long and it isn’t every day (although Liam does look forward to these visits more than he’d like to admit), but he goes and they talk and Liam thinks it’s kind of nice to have a friend.

Zayn tells him about his time at school and shares all of the things he’s learning. He talks about geography and the presidents and long division; things Liam knows a fair amount about, but doesn’t interrupt whenever Zayn relays the information because his eyes light up and they sparkle and Liam knows Zayn likes to think he’s teaching Liam something new.

Zayn also talks about his family and his friends. He mentions a boy named Harry who just moved to town and how Zayn thinks he might try and be his friend because Harry is shy and he doesn’t really have anyone to talk to.

“I think he’s scared,” Zayn explains while he and Liam pass a ball back and forth in his front yard. “Everyone else already has friends and stuff because we’re in fourth grade and that’s a long time to be in school so maybe he thinks they don’t want to add to the friends they already have.”

“That could be it,” Liam replies with a nod of his head.

“I don’t have a lot of friends either though so maybe Harry will be my good friend,” Zayn thinks out loud, catching the ball in two hands after Liam throws it.

And Liam thinks this is strange because Zayn is one of the nicest kids he’s ever met and, at first, he doesn’t really understand why he wouldn’t have any real friend, but when he thinks about it the cards kind of fall into place because Zayn is different. He thinks differently from your average eight-year-old. He understands things at a deeper level; he sees the world in ways even Liam doesn’t think he’d be able to comprehend.

So, while it’s sad, Liam can kind of understand why Zayn would have a bit of a hard time fitting in. When he looks across the yard at Zayn he sees the little boy staring down at the ball, tossing it back and forth between his hands. He looks thoughtful and a bit shy and it’s one of the few times that Liam has seen Zayn look his age; not wise beyond his years, but like a little boy who wants nothing more than to feel accepted. 

“Aren’t we friends?” Liam asks without thinking.

Zayn looks up, his eyes momentarily going wide before his face relaxes and his lips slowly curve up into a smile. He tilts his head to the side as he takes in Liam’s appearance and nods his head. “Yeah,” he Zayn adds. “I think so.”

+

Liam finds himself stopping by Zayn’s more often. They go for walks and Liam lets Zayn talk because he likes the sound of his voice; enjoys listening for the signs that tell him that it’s changing, that Zayn is growing and evolving. Liam likes noticing the way Zayn’s interests shift and the way his speech changes. He makes note of the way Zayn finds it easier to explain himself and voice his thoughts.

Liam looks at Zayn and he sees a friend who will continue to grow and learn and live and Liam is happy because Zayn deserves it. And if the thought of Zayn growing up and moving on makes Liam a little sad he pushes the thought aside because it happens to everyone.

It all really hits him one day when they’re sitting by the river (just as they always do because Zayn thinks the water is calming and Liam enjoys the privacy), Zayn propped up against a tree reading a book and Liam lying in the grass with his eyes closed, enjoying the quiet, when he cracks an eye open and catches a glimpse of Zayn and he realizes he looks older than he used to. Liam can see the way his face his gained a bit more definition, the way his eyes look a little wiser than they had before. Liam looks at Zayn and he’s longer and leaner.

Liam looks at Zayn and he can see that he’s aging.

It’s slow, but it’s happening and it hits Liam like a train.

Zayn is growing up and Liam is stuck; stationary; static.

“What are you looking at?” Zayn asks, his voice light and heavy all at the same time and Liam thinks that is new as well.

Liam shrugs his shoulders and closes his eyes again, but instead of the peaceful nothing he’d seen behind his lids before he was greeted with images of Zayn growing even taller, filling out even further. He saw Zayn graduating high school and going to college and finding some beautiful girl or boy to spend the rest of his life with. Liam saw Zayn having kids and he saw them grow as well and the process just kept on repeating itself over and over like a broken record and it only reminded him even further that he’d never have any of that.

Not now, not ever.

“Liam?”

His eyes shoot open at the sound of Zayn’s voice and he forces a smile when he turns his head to look at the boy who holds a gift he isn’t even aware of.

“Huh?”

Zayn huffs out a breath of laughter that reminds Liam of when they’d first met and they’d kept their meetings confined to games of catch in Zayn’s front yard. He thinks of how it almost doesn’t fit with how much Zayn has grown, but then Liam catches his smile and he figures that it kind of does. “You were looking at me strange.”

Liam sits up on his elbows, leaning on one to drag a hand over his face. He feels tired all of the sudden; overwhelmed.

“I was just thinking.”

Zayn cocks his head to the side, his eyes growing curious. “About?”

“I don’t know,” Liam says. “I just looked at you and I could see how much you’ve grown since I met you. It kind of hit me how different you are now; how much you’ve changed.”

Zayn closes his book, making sure to save his page as he adjusts his position against the tree. “Everyone grows up, Liam,” he says. “I’m still pretty much the same person. I guess I just look different and I know more, but… I don’t know. I still feel like I’m that same kid. I’m still me, you know?”

Liam lets the words process, feels the weight they carry and how easily Zayn had spoken the word _everyone_ without even knowing. “Not everyone grows up,” Liam mumbles, thinking Zayn won’t even catch the words.

But he does and he laughs that same laugh that matches his smile. “Maybe not you. I swear, Liam, I’ve known you for about six years now and you haven’t changed at all. It’s like you’re Peter Pan or something.”

And Liam smiles, forces himself to crack a joke that holds no weight but makes Zayn laugh anyways and Liam joins in even though he doesn’t feel it. It’s then he realizes—and tries his best to accept – that, as much as he wishes it weren’t so, Zayn really is just like everybody else. Zayn isn’t exempt from growing up and moving on with his life. Liam can almost taste the day Zayn realizes there is more than bitter old men hanging around in a town that is neither too big nor too small but still doesn’t fit; people like Liam who hang around praying for an end that will never come.

Liam can see it.

It’s only a matter of time.

+

“My parents are throwing me a birthday party this weekend,” Zayn says one day.

Liam had stopped by after Zayn got out of school and they’d walked down to the river where Liam decided to teach Zayn how to skip rocks.

“I remember you mentioning something about that.”

“Saturday,” Zayn continues. “Three o’clock.”

Liam shoots Zayn a look and hopes that he understands because they both know what Zayn is doing and what he wants and Liam doesn’t know if he’s ready for that. He knows it’s been seven years and they should be close enough for Liam to go to Zayn’s birthday party without so much as a second thought on the topic, but things aren’t that simple and close doesn’t even really matter.

“I wanted to know if you’d come.”

And there it is.

Liam sighs and runs a hand over his hair, does everything to avoid the hopeful look in Zayn’s eyes because he knows he’s about to shut him down. It wouldn’t look right for Liam to show up to a fifteen-year-old’s birthday party and, even if that weren’t a problem, Liam doesn’t get close like that. He doesn’t meet families and cut cakes and give presents. He doesn’t make friends and form relationships. He’s in deep enough as it is with Zayn; Liam doesn’t need the added stress of a family to pile on top of that.

“You know I can’t,” Liam says. “I don’t know why you would even ask.”

Zayn huffs out a breath of air and moves to sit down in front of one of the trees lining the river. “I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. If you were having a birthday party I would go,” Zayn replies, tearing a handful of grass from the ground.

Liam tries on a smile in attempt to lighten the mood. “When you’ve had as many birthdays as I’ve had, parties become a little unnecessary.”

The joke feels dry on Liam’s tongue and only serves to further remind him of everything he isn’t saying, but he’s hoping it makes Zayn laugh – or at least crack a smile that lets Liam know that things will eventually be okay. But it doesn’t happen and his joke hangs heavy in the air and it’s then that Liam realizes this is more serious than he’d thought.

It’s rare that Zayn lets his frustration with Liam show. It wasn’t a secret that Zayn was beginning to grow tired of not being able to see Liam whenever he wanted, of waiting for Liam to come to him when he felt the time was right, of their entire friendship resting against what made Liam comfortable versus what worked for the both of them. Zayn felt as though this was Liam being selfish and not considering Zayn’s feelings on where they stood and how the dynamics of their friendship should work.

Liam could count the number of times Zayn had said something on one hand and have fingers left over and every single time had only been a few words said in passing. Things like “look who finally decided to show up” or “thanks for gracing me with your presence, sir.” And everything was said with a smile, although they both knew it was forced, and Liam hadn’t bothered to comment on anything at all because he just didn’t do things like that.

But this was different. This was Zayn being upset and disappointed and not bothering to hide his feelings because he was tired.

This was exactly why Liam didn’t do friendship because someone always gets hurt; someone always gets tired; someone always leaves.

When Liam doesn’t say anything Zayn looks up and his eyes are slightly accusatory but mostly just curious and it’s one of those times where Liam can’t really read Zayn.

“Liam,” Zayn says quietly.

Liam shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“But why? Do you not want to? Are you scared my parents might say something because you’re older than me? If that's it, you don't have to worry because they know I hang out with you. It’s not a secret, Liam.”

Liam’s mouth goes dry because he doesn’t really have an excuse other than he’s old; older than Zayn thinks by a mile and it’s just so hard to explain and Liam just doesn’t know how. He doesn’t know how to tell the one friend he’s had in God only knows how long that while he cares, Liam doesn’t care enough to get too invested. Or maybe he does and that’s why he refuses to do it.

Liam doesn’t know and that’s the problem. When it comes to Zayn Liam just doesn’t know and it’s scary because he’s just a kid. He’s just a boy with a beautiful mind and a beautiful soul and, as much as Liam would hate to admit to thinking, Zayn is just beautiful in general. Liam can look at him and tell he’s going to grow into something wonderful and amazing in ways people have never really seen before and that’s another problem altogether.

And how do you say that? How do you tell someone you care about them in ways you’ve never cared about anyone before and that’s why you need to stay away?

“It’s not—” Liam stops himself before the words can even come out; presses his lips so tight it hurts and shuts down just like he always do because people are hard enough as it is and Zayn is a completely different game altogether.

Liam hates how he can look at Zayn and feel the betrayal boiling beneath his skin. Liam is lying and he knows it. He’d known coming into this that he was only going to stay for so long before he ran away; that he was going to back out before Zayn had the chance to do the same to him. It was inevitable.

And now Zayn is looking at him with eyes filled with curiosity and the fear that he’d done something wrong and Liam isn’t sure of what to do.

Or he knows. He knows what he should do what he will and how different the two really are and that’s actually the worst part.

+

Zayn spends a good part of his birthday party waiting for Liam even though he was well aware of the fact that Liam would not be showing up. Zayn hoped though; and he wished and he may have even prayed despite the fact that he was beginning to question whether or not there really was a god.

He spent a good chunk of time staring at the front door and hating the way his heart raced every time it swung open to reveal the wrong person. It was stupid, really, because Zayn should have known Liam wouldn’t want to come. Liam was twice his age and really didn’t have any real reason to be attending a birthday party filled with a bunch of teenagers just because he and Zayn hang out a few times a week.

Zayn had just hoped. Despite his better judgment, he hoped that Liam would find some reason to say yes because Zayn was worth it.

“You know people are wondering where you are, right?”

Zayn looks up and sees Harry peering down at him through unruly brown curls and sighs. “Yeah. I guess they would be, huh?”

Harry offers a hand to help Zayn out of his chair and Zayn can’t help but to smile because it really wasn’t all that necessary but this is Harry and it’s only in his nature. He can remember the first day he met Harry and how nervous he was about being in a new school and having to start all over again. He thinks about how Liam had helped him, encouraged him to keep talking to Harry even though Harry was skittish and shy. Zayn thinks about how Liam has always seemed to be there even when he wasn’t and about how that must mean something even though he isn’t sure of what.

“Whatever it is that’s bothering you,” Harry says, tearing Zayn from his thoughts. “Try and forget about it, okay? It’s your birthday; you only get one once a year.”

+

Zayn sits on his front porch for four hours after he gets out of school the next week. He doesn’t go inside until his mother calls him in for dinner, and even then he lingers.

H waits another three on Tuesday.

Zayn settles for taking periodic glances through the living room window on Wednesday and by Friday he only hopes to hear the quiet pang of a rock being thrown at his bedroom window.

But Liam never shows.

+

When it becomes clear that Liam is gone and doesn’t plan on coming back Zayn begins to realize just how much he misses Liam. He’d never really taken the time to think about how much he depended on him; how he would tell Liam things with the confidence that Liam would listen and understand where he was coming from, how Liam would receive Zayn’s thoughts without judgment and accept Zayn’s feelings for what they were.  Zayn missed the way Liam would tell him things about the world and all the places he’d been. Liam would teach Zayn all the things about history they were too afraid to tell him in school.

Most of all Zayn came to realize that, despite their age difference, Liam really was his best friend and now he was gone and that’s the saddest part of it all.

It’s when he’s walking home from school after parting ways at the corner with Harry that Zayn hears his name. There’s an old man sitting outside of a barbershop talking to a few younger guys and Zayn catches Liam’s name on his lips.

“Payne,” the old man says. “’S’been living here forever; saw him when I was a kid and I see him from time to time now and he’s the same as he’s always been: young. M’daddy saw him too, and his daddy before that. Always been here.”

Zayn stops dead in his tracks at the man’s words and listens as the guys the man had been talking to tell him he’s crazy and that people can’t live forever. They laugh and say he’s crazy before waving him off and continuing on their way, their laughter echoing in the distance as they turn the corner.

Zayn’s heart is racing because people here don’t really know Liam. Liam doesn’t have any friends outside of Zayn – he’d told him so himself on a few occasions when they used to hang out – so he doesn’t know how this man could know so much.

But Zayn is curious and he wants to know even though he’s sure the answers will only make him feel even more uneasy than he does now.

“Excuse me,” Zayn says, his voice quieter than normal as he approaches the man. “I heard – were you talking about Liam?”

“Payne…” the man says, his lips curving up into his smile.

Up close, the man is haggard and worn down. His teeth are yellow and the thin strands of hair he has left hang messy over his scalp. The lines in his face are deep and his skin looks thick like leather from years of abuse in the sun. Zayn figures he must have worked in the fields when he was younger.

“Yeah,” Zayn replies, nervously shifting his eyes from left to right to make sure nobody is listening. “Liam Payne. Were you talking about him?”

The man keeps grinning. “The man who lives forever…” he says. “You know him?”

Zayn doesn’t answer because it doesn’t feel right; only looks down at his shoes as he adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.

“S’okay,” the man continues. “You don’t have to tell me. I already know.”

“Know what?” Zayn asks, his eyes darting up to meet the crust filed ones across from him.

“My daddy saw him and his daddy before that and his daddy before that. The boy is cursed with youth because he drank. Been here forever, Payne has, and he’ll be here forever more.”

Zayn furrows his brow. “Cursed because he drank? I don’t know what --- Liam doesn’t even drink.”

The man shakes his head, leaning forward and crooking his finger to signal Zayn closer. His voice is quiet when he speaks and his breath smells of stale whiskey and dark chocolate. “The Fountain, boy. He drank from The Fountain.”

And the man tells him stories. He tells everything his father told him, who’d learned from his father, who’d learned from his father before that. Zayn learns that Liam isn’t quiet Liam from Bradford who lives alone outside of town because he’s quiet and shy and too stuck inside of his head; he’s Liam from Bradford who had been here before it was Bradford at all and lives outside of town because he’s too afraid not to. He’s Liam who doesn’t have friends because everyone always leaves and after a while relationships become too hard.

“He’s cursed with youth because he drank,” the man says, stale breath ghosting over Zayn’s face. “Youth and loneliness.”

“Where is it?” Zayn asks out of curiosity.

The man settle back into his seat, folds his hands in his lap, smiles.

“Youth…”

+

Zayn doesn’t sleep more than three hours that night because he keeps seeing The Fountain and Liam, looking just as he always has, drinking from it before he has the chance to grow old. Zayn spends time thinking of everything Liam has ever said to him and how it all suddenly makes sense; how he never spoke of his family because he doesn’t really have one anymore and how sad that must make him feel. Zayn thinks of how Liam really doesn’t have friends outside of Zayn and what that must mean. Zayn wonders what made him so special; what it was about him at eight-years-old that made Liam change his mind.

And when he wakes up that next morning Zayn doesn’t really feel like school so he ditches his usual route in favor of the one that leads outside of town toward Liam.

He’d only been to the cabin once before and that was just because Liam had forgotten his fishing pole had had to head back to pick it up. Even then, Zayn had never been inside and Liam had made sure to keep the trip quick in order to prevent Zayn from getting too close.

At least that was what Zayn had deduced after gaining all this new information.

Finding the cabin was a bit tricky because it had been a while since he’d followed Liam there, but he manages to track it down within an hour or so. The lights are on and Zayn can see Liam moving around in the kitchen through one of the windows. Zayn can’t help but to think how lonely it must be for him to wake up each morning to an empty house only to prepare breakfast for one on a daily basis. To spend his days alone reading books in his living room or taking walks by himself near the river.

Zayn thinks about how much those afternoons they spent together must have meant and how much they must have hurt at the same time because, in the back of his head, Liam had to have known they’d come to an end and he’d be left alone all over again.

And Zayn hates himself for getting so angry over a stupid birthday party because Liam had his reasons for not wanting to go. A birthday party meant getting older; it meat Zayn was one year closer to leaving him and Liam probably didn’t want to be reminded. A birthday party meant meeting new people are forming new relationships that would eventually end and Liam simply didn’t do those things.

Zayn hates himself even though he shouldn’t because he didn’t even know, but it hurts all the same.

With a deep breath, Zayn closes the distance between himself and the house and knocks on the door. He can only imagine Liam’s shock when he hears the three soft raps against the wood and when Liam opens the door his eyes are slightly wide and his jaw drops a little before Zayn’s name falls from his lips in a voice Zayn has to strain to hear.

“Zayn…”

Zayn nods, his eyes dropping to his shoes before quickly darting back up to meet Liam’s. “I… You’ve always been here, haven’t you?”

Liam’s grip on the door tightens and his lips grow tight. He looks ashamed, like he wants to close the door and hide because this only means Zayn knows that he’s lied. Liam knows that Zayn knows he’s older than Zayn can even imagine.

“I’m sorry,” Liam says.

Zayn nods, shrugs his shoulders. “It’s okay.”

And it is because, while Zayn thought he might have been a little bit angry, he really isn’t because this is Liam. He’s known Liam since he was eight and he’s always been there. He’s always had the same smile, that same slow, thoughtful away about him, and big brown eyes that hold a painful understanding of what the world really is.

Zayn looks at Liam now and none of that has really changed. Liam is still Liam, just older.

“I didn’t mean to,” Liam continues. “I just –”

Liam cuts himself off because he isn’t sure how to explain. He doesn’t know how to say he never really meant to love Zayn. Liam never meant to see him holding that funeral for a dead bird and love him then and there without really realizing it. But it was Zayn’s soul and his quiet maturity and understanding of the world. It was the way he loved people so easily and silently in a way that meant so much more than the loud boisterous friendships that people so often form and break and forget. It was Zayn with his easy laugh and love of literature and superheroes and quiet afternoons by the river.

Liam loves him and he wishes that he didn’t because it always ends the same and he knows Zayn won’t mean to when it happens – and it really won’t even be his fault – but he’ll eventually leave too and that’s why Liam had to step away; to leave before Zayn had the chance to do it first.

“How long?” Zayn asks.

Liam shifts his weight, his body feeling unbalanced even though he has the door to lean on for support. “150 years,” he says, voice filled with shame.

Zayn nods, understanding without Liam even having to tell him. He steps forward, forcing Liam to meet his eye and, when he does, Liam knows he doesn’t have to explain himself any further. Zayn gets it and it’s okay; they’re okay.

Zayn smiles, takes Liam’s hand in his and nods toward the couch in the living room. “Tell me all about it.”

+

Things are easier without secrets and barriers. Zayn and Liam speak more freely with one another, Liam sharing stories about his past and the all the things he has seen, the places he’s traveled to, and all the things in history that have always fascinated Zayn.

Liam tells Zayn about his family and how much he misses them sometimes. He talks about the chair in his living room and how his father used to sit in it most evenings smoking his pipe while Liam read to him from a book he’d picked off of the shelf. He talks about how he’d helped his father build the house and how hard he works to keep it just to keep something from his past; to have a reminder of where he came from and how he hasn’t always been alone.

Zayn still grows older and Liam still notices, but there are no more invitations to birthday parties because Zayn knows better. He asks about the fountain every now and then, about where it is and how it works, to which Liam shakes his head and tells Zayn it isn’t really important.

“It’s a curse, Zayn, just as that man said. Just… live your life okay? Enjoy it. It’s as long as it needs to be.”

Zayn only huffs out a breath of frustration because he isn’t really sure if that’s true or not. As time goes by and Zayn grows older he begins to notice things about Liam; things he’d never really taken the time to process or think about. He’d always thought Liam was attractive ever since he’d come to the conclusion that he probably preferred boys over girls, but he never really given the idea much attention because Liam had always been his friend who lived outside of town and talked to Zayn about things Harry and other kids his age didn’t really understand.

But looking at Liam now, he was more than stimulating conversation. He was tall and broad where Zayn was kind of thin and a little lanky because, at seventeen, he still hasn’t filled out all the way. Liam had these lips that curled around his words in a way Zayn really can’t describe despite his extensive vocabulary, but made him want to find words; to create a word that explained the way Zayn wanted nothing more than to know the feeling of Liam’s mouth pressed against his own, of his fingers tangled deep in his hair.

Zayn realizes just how in love he is with Liam’s words and his wisdom; with the way Liam speaks about his family and Zayn can feel the way he misses them to his very core. Zayn loves the way Liam laughs at his jokes and swats his hand away to trace the lines of crow’s feet around the edges of Liam’s eyes that they both know Zayn will never find.

Mostly, Zayn just realizes that he’s kind of in love with Liam himself and while it warms his soul in a way he’d never felt before it also makes him sad because even though he’s only seventeen now, in three years he’ll be twenty and ten years after that he’ll be thirty and he’s going to have to start a life for himself  and get a job and start a family and send his kids to college and grow old and retire and then he’ll die and Liam will still be here, young and waiting for everything and nothing at the ripe age of twenty-three.

But Zayn isn’t sure he wants any of that. Maybe he just wants Liam and his honest brown eyes that are filled with all the pain and joy in the world. Liam with his smile that always finds his face whenever his eyes catch Zayn’s when they’re chatting by the river. He wants Liam and his old poetry that he says only Zayn has ever really appreciated and their long talks about life and death and what it all really means.

Zayn thinks that maybe he wants forever, that maybe it really isn’t a curse if it means spending it with Liam.

  +

“You should just tell me where it is,” Zayn says with a cheeky grin one day while he’s doing homework on Liam’s living room floor.

“No,” Liam answers, his voice firm while still maintaining the gentle quality that makes Zayn’s heart stutter. He’s reading a book in his father’s chair, but has it sitting, closed, in his lap with one of his fingers marking his place. “We’ve been over this. It’s not important.”

“But it is and I don’t even see why it’s such a big deal. The only bad thing about living forever is being alone and if we both could that wouldn’t even be an issue. It’s no secret that I want to be with you and I know you want to be with me and this way we can; forever.”

Liam sighs, he can feel the pressure behind his eyes, but fights the urge to cry. He looks at Zayn and he just looks so young, sounds so young and Liam just wants to make him understand; needs him to understand.

“It’s not that, Zayn. It’s – it’s more than love,” he says. “You have your whole life ahead of you and you deserve that. You deserve to grow up, to watch your kids grow up, to die. You deserve all of that and while it seems like that doesn’t matter because you have a chance to cheat death, to spend eternity with the first person you’ve ever had any real feelings for… it does; that does matter.”

Zayn shakes his head. “No… what matters is you,” he says. “I want you.”

They’re quiet and, for a while, the only thing that can be heard is the soft crackle of the fire burning in the fireplace. Zayn’s face is cold and frustrated and stony because he thinks, for the first time, Liam really just doesn’t understand; or maybe he just doesn’t want to.

But then Liam is climbing out of the chair and kneeling in front of him before he’s wrapping Zayn up in his arms and kissing his hair. Liam sighs when he feels Zayn’s breath hot against his neck and he feels a pang of sadness deep within his chest because he wants Zayn forever too. He can’t imagine what it will be like to see him move through life, to watch him go away to school only to have him come back and tell him all about some girl or boy he met in the dormitories and how they spent the night smoking cigarettes on the roof while the swapped stories about home before kissing under the stars. He doesn’t want to think about the diplomas and the wedding invitations and the baby pictures. Liam doesn’t want to think about yearly birthdays and Zayn with gray hair and laugh lines and wrinkles and wheel and the inevitable funeral. Liam doesn’t want to think about it because he wants forever just as much as Zayn does and here Zayn is, asking for it. Forever is right there, wrapped up and decorated with a bow, and Liam could have it.

Forever is right there, but Liam loves Zayn too much to take it.

When Liam’s grip on him loosens Zayn pulls back and opens his mouth to speak, probably to ask him once more, but Liam shakes his head presses his lips to Zayn’s. It’s soft and easy and slow and Zayn thinks it feels a lot like Liam’s voice in the way that it soothes his soul and makes him feel as though he’s floating. Zayn can feel years of sadness and loneliness and how eager Liam is for more, but is willing to wait before he allows himself to take it. Zayn kisses Liam like his life depends on it, licks at the seam of his lips, begging Liam to let him in so he can show him just how much this means; that he isn’t kidding and he isn’t as young as Liam thinks he is.

Zayn kisses Liam like he wants to do it forever.

He kisses him like he can and he will if Liam will only give him the chance. 


	2. The Middle

When Zayn graduates Liam stands silent in the back and counts the seconds and minutes and hours he’ll have left in his living room watching Zayn page through books, sharing stories under thick blankets on his couch and stealing kisses that really shouldn’t be stolen at his front door.

He thinks of how much time he has left and how it all feels so relative and short lived.

Liam thinks of the acceptance letter Zayn had gotten in the mail and how he’d run all the way to Liam’s house with a smile on his face just so he could share the news that he got in. Liam thinks of how he had smiled and pulled Zayn into a hug, told him congratulations and kissed his growing mop of black hair that sometimes had a tendency to flop over his forehead and cover his eyes, and fought the urge to pull Zayn impossibly closer and never let go.

Because that’s really the hardest part, Liam thinks; letting go.

Meeting someone like Zayn has to be the best and worst thing to ever happen to him because while Liam has him now, and maybe in some ways he always will, he’ll eventually have to push Zayn away; let him go.

And Liam isn’t sure he really knows how.

He’s not even sure if he can.

+

“They have the best music department,” Zayn says, fiddling with the hem of Liam’s T-shirt.“And the art studios are really neat too and I think I might want to take some history classes while I’m there.”

Liam hums and nods, taking Zayn’s hand into his own and tangling their fingers together, thinks of how well they fit and wondering how long that will last before Zayn grows out of him.

“I can call you sometimes and tell you what I’ve learned and we can talk about it, you know?” Zayn continues, squeezing Liam’s hand. “Because you’d have lived through some of it and all.”

Liam groans and rolls his eyes, pinching Zayn’s side and causing him to let out an embarrassing squeal. Liam notes the way his face flushes, the blush on his cheeks and he thinks of how young and pretty Zayn is. How lucky he is to have this with him.

But then Liam’s sighing and shaking his head. “No…”

Zayn freezes, his grip on Liam’s hand loosening as he pulls back a bit. “No?”

Liam nods, starts to explain but clamps his mouth shut when he doesn’t have the right words.

“Liam…”

“I love you,” Liam says and it’s the first time he’s really spoken the words out loud. Zayn has said them freely a few times when they were wrapped up in each other on the couch or hidden beneath Liam’s old blankets in front of the fireplace. He’s spoken them between innocent kisses that always seemed to lead to more than either of them were quite ready for; more than Liam was ready to take and more than Zayn was ready to give up. Zayn has spoken the words on the brink of sex when his pants were just shy of becoming completely undone and Liam’s shirt had just been tossed somewhere near the other side of the room.

It’s “I love you” and it’s sure and confident and it almost goes without saying, but it’s also accompanied by the need of Liam to accept it as fact; for him to realize that Zayn’s love came without boundaries and conditions, for him to realize that although Zayn was young this was it and he wanted forever and all Liam has to do is let him take it.

“I know,” Zayn replies, nodding his head, reaches out to cup Liam’s cheek and brush a thumb over his bottom lip.

“You have to know I’d give anything,” Liam says, his voice ragged and rough because telling Zayn this is the hardest thing. Telling Zayn to let go despite the fact that his heart is reaching out for Liam’s and Liam’s is reaching back. “I’d give anything to have what you have; to have a life with a path and an end instead of this endless waiting and watching. You have to know…”

“Liam…”

“I just—try,” Liam says. “Don’t think about me and don’t think about forever. We’ll… we’ll take this summer and it will be you and me and we’ll – I don’t know. It will just be us, okay? And then you’ll go to school and take all those art and music classes and you’ll learn about history and… “ He trails off, wants to tell Zayn he’ll meet new people and maybe he’ll fall in love and realize there is so much more but the words get lodged in his throat because as much as he wants that for Zayn – that kind of happiness his parents shared, the look in their eyes whenever they gazed at one another over the dinner table, the way his mother’s face lit up when his dad came in the front door after a long day at work – Liam wants that for himself too; wants it with Zayn.

He wants a wedding and kids. He wants romantic evenings over candle lit dinners and school plays. He wants to tease Zayn about his graying hair, to have Zayn make fun of him when his eyes go bad. He wants to watch their kids grow up and to see Zayn’s face when he holds them for the first time. Liam wants a life with Zayn that he knows he can’t give him; the life Zayn deserves.

“I just want you to try,” Liam says, his voice thick as he avoids eye contact altogether. “Just try and if when you come home you still feel the same about me and about the fountain and what you want then… okay. But I need you to try.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing either of them can hear being the barely audible singing of the birds sitting in the trees outside the house, but then Zayn mumbles a quiet “okay” and Liam lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding in before Zayn is hooking a finger under his chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“But for now,” Zayn adds. “We have the summer. Right?”

Liam nods, presses their foreheads together, closes his eyes while he breathes in every bit of Zayn he can catch and committing it to memory. “We have the summer.”

+

The summer is great.

Zayn and Liam go fishing by the lake and forget their poles in favor of lazy kisses in the grass accompanied by whispered proclamations of love and adoration spoken in a language Liam hadn’t used since he was kids.

Liam loved Zayn wholly and ardently and Zayn blushed and hid his face in Liam’s shoulder because he’d never been so happy.

They shared ice cream cones in town despite the fact that all of the human interaction made Liam feel a little uncomfortable. Zayn held his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze whenever he felt Liam tense up. When he caught Liam surveying the area a little more often than usual Zayn caught his eye and silently reminded Liam that it was just them — no one else – and that everything around them was just a technicality.

(“Thank you,” Zayn mumbles later on that night while they sat on Liam’s porch under the stars.

Liam pauses, the hand he’d been using to pin point a certain constellation he wanted to show to Zayn falling to his side. “For what?”

“Today,” Zayn answers. His eyes are big and golden brown and Liam is lost. “This summer. Everything.”

Liam smiles, allows himself the pleasure of knowing the way Zayn’s lips fit against his own. “Anything,” he says, combing his fingers through Zayn’s hair, memorizing the way it feels like silk. “For you, I’d do anything.”)

As nice as it is to just be with one another and to love without bounds, there’s still the itching knowledge of the mortality of it all; the fact that even though Liam has forever, he really doesn’t because Zayn is leaving just as Liam always knew he would.

It hits him hardest the night before Zayn is scheduled to leave for university when they’re lying on a mound of blankets in Liam’s living room, Zayn’s head pillowed against his chest where he’s pressing silent kisses to the thin cotton of Liam’s T-shirt.

Liam sighs, thinks of the smooth silk of Zayn’s hair between his fingers and the hot electricity of Zayn’s skin brushing up against his own. Liam thinks of the heaviness in Zayn’s words and the ways in which they climb inside his heart and nest inside his brain. He thinks of the way Zayn’s smile has a way or warming his soul and the how his lips make Liam feel as though he’s lighter than air.

Zayn can hear Liam’s thoughts, feels the sadness in his bones and pushes himself upand kisses Liam just to remind him that he’s still there. He hasn’t left; not yet.

Liam closes his eyes and allows himself to fall, to forget everything but the slip and slide of Zayn’s lips against his own and the firm grip of Zayn’s fingers on his hips. He sinksinto the gentle nip of Zayn’s teeth on his bottom lip, subconsciously slides his hands underneath Zayn’s shirt and freezes because he isn’t sure if they should be doing this; not now at least. Maybe if they had more time, if circumstances were different and things weren’t so messy. Liam just doesn’t want to take too much more than he’s so graciously been given. He doesn’t want to mark Zayn with something that could hold him back from actually trying like he’s meant to do.

Zayn pauses, lifts his gaze to meet Liam’s and his eyes are blown wide and bright. He’s looking at Liam in a way he never really has before and somehow Liam already knows what he’s going to say before the words even leave his mouth.

He finds Liam’s hand where it’s resting just above his bellybutton beneath his shirt and slides it up so Liam’s fingers are splayed just over his heart. “It’s okay,” Zayn says quietly in a voice so sincere and honest it makes Liam feel as though he’ll cry. “I want you to.”

Liam knows he has the green light, that Zayn doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean, but he still has to ask. “Zayn are you –”

“I don’t want to go and live life out there without knowing what it’s like to have everything with you. I don’t want to know anyone else before I’ve known you,” Zayn says. “I want you – all of you – before I even try to want anything else.”

Liam nods and pulls Zayn in close, his hand never leaving the space over his heart, and kisses him like it’s the last chance he’ll get; unwraps him like the gift Liam already knows that he is.

+

They don’t bother with goodbyes because Zayn knows he’ll be coming back and Liam doesn’t think he can handle it.

Instead Zayn slips out the front door in the early hours of the morning when the sun is just beginning to rise and Liam is still sound asleep in front of the fireplace.

+

For the first few days Zayn feels lost and a little bit lonely. University is nothing like high school with its old, Victorian style buildings and the way everyone seems to be a few chapters ahead while Zayn is still trying to catch up.

It’s almost as if Zayn is in another world outside of the one he’d grown up in; like instead of climbing into the backseat of his parent’s car and driving a few hundred miles outside his hometown, he’d boarded a spaceship and flown to a different planet altogether.

The people are nice though and they smile when they pass him by even though they’d never met and probably never will. His professors are happy to talk to him after class and they talk about history and literature offhand as if they aren’t holding Zayn’s grade in their hands.

But Zayn still feels like he’s floating; like he’s a little lost and not anchored to the ground and maybe it’s because, while it’s nice to receive warm hellos from strangers and to form friendly relationships with his professors, he longs to feel the warmth of Liam’s fireplace and to know he’s listening when Zayn shares his favorite parts about the day.

It’s nice and it’s freedom and he’s living, but it’s not the same.

+

Zayn meets Niall in the fourth week of school on a Tuesday out in the quad while he’s smoking a cigarette and Niall is playing his guitar in the grass. It’s sort of accidental because Zayn is only sitting under a tree picking at a sandwich he doesn’t really want and Niall is humming along to a song Zayn remembers hearing on the radio one day with Liam before he left for school. He remembers how Liam hadn’t really liked the song, but Zayn did because it was a little haunting and the guy had a nice voice and it was sort of slow in that way that made Zayn want to smoke a joint and go to sleep.

Niall’s version is a little different because it’s acoustic and his voice isn’t quite the same, but Zayn likes it and before he knows it he’s pushing himself off of the ground and closing the short distance separating him from the boy with the dirty blonde hair.

“Hey,” Zayn says, suddenly feeling a little nervous as he rubs at the back of his neck because he’s not really sure if people do this all the time.

“Hey there.” Niall’s smile is friendly as he stops strumming his guitar in favor of seeing what Zayn has to say.

Zayn glances around the quad, making note of how completely uninterested everyone seems to be in the two boys talking near the large oak tree and he feels a little more at ease because this isn’t really a big deal. This is just moving on in life and making friends and doing what he’s supposed to be doing.

“I was just uh… what was that song you were playing? It sounded familiar.”

“Oh, you know The Killers?”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Kind of? Or not really. I heard them on the radio a few times and I recognized the song.”

Niall nods. “Good band. I finally got around to buying their album even though it came out about a year ago.” He laughs and it’s easy and free in a way Zayn hasn’t really felt in a long while. It’s nothing like Liam’s laugh which never fails to make Zayn’s head feel a bit hazy and his heart skip a few beats, but it lacks the pain and the heart ache and the guilt that seems to be weaved and intertwined into everything Liam does. Zayn doesn’t feel as though he has to force the smile to stay on Niall’s face because Niall doesn’t seem to have any guilt or reservations about being happy.

“Is it any good?”

Niall takes a moment to think about the question before he leans back in the grass, moving his guitar to rest comfortably in his lap.

“It’s not bad. There are a few songs I don’t care for, but I think that happens with every album, you know? You can’t like everything. And there are some songs that I really love so… there’s that part of it too, I guess. I think it’s pretty decent. Not my favorite album, but it’s good.”

Zayn smiles, nods, and shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other because he isn’t sure of what to say. Niall seems to catch on and when he smiles it’s just as genuine as the first time (maybe even more so) and Zayn is beginning to think he’s managed to make himself a friend.

“You know,” Niall starts, glancing quickly over his shoulder. “I actually have the album back in my room. If you want I can grab my radio and we can listen to it.” He pauses. “I mean, if you aren’t doing anything or—”

Zayn shakes his head. “No,” he says. “I’m not.”

And Niall grins and Zayn only feels a little bit guilty when he thinks about how pretty Niall is when he smiles.

+

Niall’s from Ireland, but Zayn could tell due to his accent and Niall huffs out a breath of laughter when Zayn makes an absentminded confession of liking to listen to Niall talk.

“You’ll get sick of it eventually, mate,” Niall says and he winks before stealing a French fry from Zayn’s plate and popping into his mouth with a cheeky grin.

Zayn doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t think he could. He feels guilty for liking Niall so much because he’s left Liam alone back home with no one to talk to because Liam is too afraid of getting close.

Kind of like how Zayn is doing now.

When he goes home at night, he wants to call Liam and tell him all about it. He wants to tell him about school and his classes and how much he’s enjoying things now. He wants to tell him about Niall and how they like to spend Friday nights drinking on the roof of Niall’s dorm, passing a joint back and forth while they swap stories of their lives back home.

He wants to share it all with Liam because that’s what they do, but he also doesn’t because he doesn’t want Liam to realize that he was right. Liam had known Zayn would go to school and fall into a life outside of Bradford; a life outside of  _them._ Liam had known Zayn would get out and learn that there was a whole world to see and people to meet and he’d meet some kid at his school that would sweep Zayn off his feet and open his eyes to a world of new experiences.

Zayn feels guilty because he doesn’t want all of that to be true. He’s not sure he wants to move on and change and grow into this person that isn’t the one he’d grown so used to being. Or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t want to move on without Liam because while Niall is sweet and kind and funny and more than a little good looking, he’s still not Liam with his puppy brown eyes that Zayn could get lost in and never want to find his way back.

But Niall is good for right now and he seems to understand Zayn in a way that Liam never really could. Niall lets Zayn want and he lets him take and he doesn’t really question anything. Things are easy with Liam and conversation flows and Liam lets Zayn talk and he really listens to what he has to say (and vice versa) but things with Liam aren’t simple. They’re complicated because Zayn wants and Liam doesn’t want to give. They’re complicated because Liam has had more time to grow and maybe in that time Liam has grown a little bitter and there are just some things about him that Zayn will never understand.

Niall is good for right now because he is simple. He’s young and he’s fun and he’s free and he brings out a side of Zayn that Zayn never even knew existed. They drink beer on rooftops and Niall swears like a sailor and tells dirty jokes that make Zayn’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink but he only laughs along with him because it’s new and fun and exciting.

Zayn misses Liam, but he also likes Niall.

Zayn wants to hold on, but he also wants to let go.

+

The first time they’re in Niall’s dorm because his parents are rich and he has a single.

“I guess they feel like they owe me something,” Niall explains with a shrug of his shoulders as he toes off his sneakers and flops onto the bed.

Zayn shrugs off his jacket and hangs it over the chair in front of Niall’s desk. He sits down and picks up a pencil lying on the desktop, twirls it between his fingers. “Why?”

When he looks up, Zayn sees Niall has propped himself up on his elbow. “They worked a lot. My dad got partner at the law firm he works at when I was in middle school and he’s been pretty much non-existent since then and my mom’s job takes her all over the place so she’s never really around either, so it was basically just me and a nanny while I was in school and now that I’m here it’s just me.”

He doesn’t say it like it bothers him, but Zayn can look at Niall and tell that it does. He can see it in his eyes; the way he purposefully avoids contact as his gaze shifts around a room he probably knows like the back of his hand. Niall looks at things as if he’s seeing them for the first time. When Zayn thinks about it, it’s as if Niall is seeing them not as his own belongings but as everything his parents never really gave him.

That guitar? That’s the lesson his dad paid some faceless instructor to give him because he just couldn’t make the time to do it himself even though Niall he knew his father was in a shitty garage band in high school. It’s all the conversations they never had about music even though Niall had found his dad’s old record collection and realized they had more in common than they thought.

That giant book filled with the complete works of Shakespeare? That was a gift from his mother. She’s a bookworm and loves old literature and had given it to Niall as a graduation present. Niall doesn’t even really like to read all that much but he’d kept it anyways because it was a gift from his mom and at least she was trying even though the gift only served as a reminder that she didn’t know her son at all.

Zayn is about to say something, maybe make light of the situation and tell Niall that it sucks about his parents but at least he gets some privacy out of it because that’s kind of how they are (Zayn and Niall are easy and free and they laugh about things instead of hanging onto them like life rafts drifting out to sea), but then Niall is shaking his head and putting on a smile, looking at Zayn like everything he’d just said was stupid and unimportant and

“Why are we talking about this anyways?”

And Zayn feels sad because Niall’s smile is forced and a little too tight where it’s usually loose and relaxed and genuine. But, even though he wants to say something, wants to help, Zayn keeps his mouth shut because despite the fact that he’s only known Niall for a few weeks he’s learned that Niall likes to keep things casual. Niall doesn’t do serious; he doesn’t have the time or the energy. He’d much rather sit back and smoke a bowl, shoving his problems under the bed until a later date because life really is too short.

“Go put the album on while I roll this, yeah?” Niall asks, climbing off the bed and moving to grab his half empty stash of weed from the bottom of his sock drawer.

Zayn didn’t really start smoking until he met Niall. He’d tried it a few times in high school, but it never really became a thing because Zayn spent most of his time with Liam and with Liam Zayn didn’t want to be in some hazy existence where everything moved in slow motion and things were slightly blurred around the edges. With Liam, Zayn wanted the world to be clear; he wanted to see things as they were.

But Liam wasn’t here and after spending more than a few afternoons in Niall’s bedroom passing a joint back and forth Zayn realized he kind of enjoyed the haze. He liked the way everything seemed to fade and all that was left was bad jokes and a good friend with slightly crooked teeth, kind eyes, and a head full of dirty blond hair that Zayn really wanted to run his fingers through.

“We always listen to this,” Niall says when the record starts and he motions for Zayn to come join him on the bed. “Why do we always listen to this?”

Zayn shrugs. “S’good album.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t listen to other things too,” Niall replies, but it isn’t like he’s saying that he wants to because he’s already humming along to the first track as he fishes his lighter from his back pocket. (“ _She couldn’t scream while I held her close, I swore I’d never let her go_ ”)

Zayn only shrugs because he knows Niall is right but he doesn’t really feel like changing the album and this one is kind of sticking to him. It reminds him of meeting Niall in the quad and sitting just outside of the dorms until ten o’clock that night talking and laughing and the record makes him feel closer even though Niall is sitting right next to him.

The record sort of helps Zayn forget about everything outside of school and this whole new life he’s created for himself. It creates a bubble much like the haze he feels after Niall passes him the joint he’s just lit up and Zayn fits it between his lips and inhales. It makes Zayn feel lost in a way unlike those first few weeks of school.

He’s lost but he’s also found some new surroundings that he wouldn’t mind getting to know a little better.

A little while later they’re both lying on the floor and Zayn has a stupid smile on his face and his fingers are brushing against Niall’s. It’s a little electric the way the tips of their fingers dance together, kind of like static; like his hand is falling asleep and Niall’s is the only thing keeping it awake. Kind of like Niall is the only thing reminding him that there are things to feel.

It’s a little poetic, really, Zayn thinks.

And then maybe it isn’t and he’s trying too hard. He isn’t sure.

And then Niall is rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “Have you ever been in love?” He asks. “Like not… Not the kind where you meet a person and you really like them and you think its love but where you  _know_.”

Zayn mind immediately drifts to Liam and the fireplace and the river and the way his fingers had felt pressed against his skin the night before he’d left. He thinks about everything and he doesn’t feel as though those things really belong in the haze he’s in; like Liam doesn’t fit here because it isn’t the same.

“No,” Zayn replies, his voice sounding thicker than normal.

“Me neither,” Niall says. “But I want to. I think it would be nice to be wanted like that.”

Zayn turns to look at Niall and his eyes are bright and blue and shining. He thinks that it’s probably more than just Niall wanting someone to need him, someone to hold and to kiss and to fuck. He thinks it’s more of Niall wanting something he’d never really had before – a connection, maybe.

Niall’s looking at him now and his eyes are bright and blue and different than they’ve ever been and Zayn thinks maybe Niall wants to find that connection in him.

(“ _But then you took me by surprise. I’m dreaming about those dreamy eyes. I never knew, I never knew._

_But it’s alright…._ ”)

Zayn stares back and he doesn’t think he’d mind.

And when Niall leans forward it’s slow, like he’s asking.

And when he’s too close to stop it from happening his lips are soft and a little bit chapped and they fit perfectly in the haze Zayn has created for himself.

And Liam is fading, fading, until there is nothing but the sweet smell of pot and Niall and the Hot Fuss album.

Then Niall is pulling away and lying flat on his back with this smile on his face that makes Zayn feel warm inside and he’s singing.

(“ _Everything will be alright…_ ”)

+

They don’t really talk about it much which Zayn is glad for because he isn’t sure what he would call what he does with Niall. He wouldn’t call it love or anything close to it because without the hazy feeling of being high Niall’s hands and his words don’t feel the same as Liam’s.

But Niall is still nice and he’s young and he looks at Zayn like he’s seeing the world for the very first time and sometimes it’s nice to be needed. Sometimes it’s nice to know that someone can feel that way about another person so easily and fearlessly.

And Zayn lets him.

And maybe that’s selfish and a little bit wrong because Zayn knows deep down that he may never feel the same, but he does it anyways. He lets Niall fall and maybe Zayn falls a little bit too, but it isn’t as hard.

+

“Sometimes,” Niall says, taking a swig of his beer. “I think I like you.”

Zayn grins and leans back on his palms, his legs dangling over the edge of the roof. It’s a little past midnight and they’re skipping out on a party one of the guys in Niall’s architecture class had invited him too (“I thought about going, but I’d rather spend the night talking shit with you than watching a whole bunch of drunk college students do body shots off of each other on a cheap beer pong table, you know?”).

“I think I like you too.” Zayn moves to grab his own beer, but realizes it’s empty and sighs because that means he’ll have to get up and grab another one from the pack.

“No,” Niall says. “I think I really like you; like more than I should.”

Zayn knows Niall isn’t quite drunk yet because he has a high tolerance and they’ve only been out on the roof for a bout forty-five minutes. Niall doesn’t start talking nonsense so early.

“Hmm,” is all Zayn can think to respond with and he decides that maybe getting up and grabbing another beer isn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Is that bad?” Niall asks once Zayn returns. “Liking you so much?”

Zayn shrugs his shoulders because he really isn’t sure. He can feel Niall’s eyes on the side of his face and he doesn’t need to look back to know that they are deep and blue and honest. He knows that if he were to look back he’d be greeted with someone who is young and kind and a little bit naïve; someone who could – and probably will – grow to love him if Zayn only gave him the chance.

The funny thing is Zayn thinks he could grow to love Niall as well, if he let himself. It wouldn’t even be that hard and Zayn could be happy. He could live the life Liam had always imagined for him and have kids and grow old and laugh and live in the happy haze he’s grown to associate with Niall. Zayn could have it all; live life as it’s meant to be lived.

But then there’s Liam and Zayn isn’t so sure.

“I don’t know,” Zayn tells him. “Maybe; maybe not.”

Niall shuffles a little closer and forces Zayn to meet his eyes. “Well I do,” he says and his voice smells like beer and mint and a little bit of weed. It’s sweet and Zayn finds himself wanting to taste it even though the taste wouldn’t be all that unfamiliar.

Zayn closes his eyes, nods as he takes another swig of beer, and when he opens them Niall is a little bit closer and he doesn’t smell all that different from his breath.

(“ _I just want you to try_ , _” Liam had said. “Just try and if when you come home you still feel the same about me and about the fountain and what you want then… okay. But I need you to try.”_ )

“Okay,” Zayn whispers and Niall is so close he can almost feel their lips brush together as he speaks. He nods again and his chest feels heavy with something akin to something like betrayal, but also something that feels like exhilaration and the excitement of knowing someone wants him so openly.

Zayn kisses Niall and it’s not like the first time in his dorm room when they were high and a little bit jumbled and giggly. Zayn kisses Niall and it’s sweet and Niall’s hands are cold and a bit damp (probably from the condensation on his beer bottle) against his cheek. He kisses Niall and it’s nothing like kissing Liam, but it’s still nice nonetheless.

“Okay,” Zayn says against Niall’s lips. “I’ll try.”

And Niall nods even though he isn’t all that sure of what Zayn means and presses their lips back together like it’s the only thing he’s ever wanted.

And when Zayn kisses Niall the haze is still there, but it’s clearing and Zayn can’t help but to notice that Liam isn’t coming back as quickly as he used to.

+

Zayn visits home and it doesn’t really feel like home anymore.

It looks just as it always has and his parents didn’t do anything to his bedroom (it looks exactly the way it did when he’d left it) and the people are all the same. Harry is there and he’s still just as shy and helpful and friendly as he’s always been, but he also feels far and distant like Zayn doesn’t recognize him anymore.

Zayn wanders around town and it feels smaller, the people are less interesting and everything feels far too simple; like there’s nothing left to learn.

It’s when he’s lying in bed the first night he spends at home that Zayn realizes how much he’s changed. He’s not the same boy who’d driven away in the backseat of his parent’s car. Zayn realizes that maybe he’s bigger than Bradford, that he’s growing up and out and that there isn’t really much he can do about it.

+

Liam knows things are different the moment he opens the door and sees Zayn standing in front of him.

He looks older even though it’s only been a couple of months. Zayn has filled out a little more and his eyes don’t hold the same youthful innocence they’d had before he left for school. He doesn’t smell the same and when he smiles it still reaches his eyes, but it’s – it’s different.

“Long time no see.” Liam tries for nonchalance, but he knows Zayn doesn’t buy it.

“I know I probably shouldn’t be here, but I…” Zayn trails off, ducks his head as his cheeks flush pink. “I don’t know. I couldn’t come home without seeing you.”

Liam nods. “It’s okay,” he says. “You look good.”

Zayn looks up and smiles because Liam’s words, no matter how short and simple, never fail to make him feel warm and special. “You too.”

“You wanna come in?”

Zayn nods, and then stops himself because he remembers that his parents are probably waiting for him back at the house because they’re supposed to be taking him back to school soon.

“I would but my parents – I’m leaving back for school in a few hours. I just… I wanted to at least see you again before I left, you know?”

Liam nods and smiles something small and sad. He can tell just by looking at Zayn that things have changed. Zayn still looks at him like Liam is the sun and the moon and a whole bunch of other stuff in between, but Liam can also tell that Zayn has found someone who can be his stars.

“You’re happy?” Liam asks and they both know Liam doesn’t mean so in the general sense.

Zayn nods. “Yeah,” he says. “I miss you though. Every day.”

“You’re trying.”

Once again, Zayn nods. “I am.”

“Good.” Liam’s voice is thick and even though it’s good to see Zaynhe kind of wants him to leave because knowing he’s here, but he’s also there is a little too much. It’s too much to know that Zayn will go back and love someone else even though it may not be as much.

As if Zayn had read his mind – and maybe he had – Liam sees him step forward, feel Zayn’s hands around his middle as he hugs him close and presses his lips to the skin of Liam’s neck. Against his better judgment, Liam holds him back and breathes in a smell that is a little unfamiliar but still feels like home because it’s Zayn and Liam thinks it will always be that way.

“I love you,” Zayn whispers into Liam’s skin. “Always; I’ll always love you.”

“I know,” Liam replies, his chest feeling full and heavy and empty. “Me too.”

When Zayn turns around and heads for home Liam doesn’t doubt that the words were true and he meant them, but he also knows that people change and that while Zayn loves him that may not always be enough.

Liam knows that while he may be the moon and the sun, Zayn has also seen the stars and that he will follow them just as Liam had always known he would.  


	3. The End

When Zayn gets back to school Niall smells like weed and citrus and a different sort of home that is nothing at all like the calm Liam has a tendency to bring to Zayn’s soul. The home Niall brings is lazy and fast and exciting and a little bit dangerous in a way that makes Zayn feel invincible; like he can do or see anything and he has all the time in the world to live.

And it’s ironic, Zayn thinks, that Niall makes him feel like he has time because that’s all Zayn has ever wanted. He’s wanted time with Liam, he’s wanted forever and everything that comes after and yet here he is finding that with a boy who could never give that to him; a boy that doesn’t even really know what forever means.

Niall smiles, cocks his head to the side and looks at Zayn like he’s seeing him for the first time and maybe he really is because it’s the first time they are acknowledging each other as something more than a hazy, smoke filled room and the haunting voice of a man singing about how everything is alright.

Niall smiles and his teeth are crooked and his roots are growing in and Zayn thinks he’s beautiful.

Niall smiles. “Hey…”

And Zayn thinks he might love him without even trying.

+

Zayn tries without effort. He and Niall laugh until their sides hurt and Niall plays with his hair and tells Zayn he loves him without hesitation.

It’s different than it was with Liam because it’s free.

Zayn learns to love Niall without abandon while with Liam it was careful and sweet.

Niall loves him in a way that can be a little bit too rough; in a way that reminds Zayn that he isn’t fragile and Zayn relishes in it because he’s young and sort of inexperienced and Niall is only the second boy he’s kissed and while he’s dead set on forever with Liam time with Niall sounds like a good idea too.

And that’s all Zayn has really wanted.

Time.

+

“I wanna see the world,” Zayn says one day. There’s a joint dangling between his fingers and his hair is a bit longer and he may or may not be thinking of dying it blond.

Niall is lying flat on his back - unabashedly naked - in the center of the floor staring up at the ceiling fan and he isn’t all that high but he’s blissfully fucked and that’s basically just as good; maybe better.

“Then see the world; we can do that.”

“You’d do that with me?” Zayn asks, running a hand through his hair and wondering when he’d washed it last.

Niall lolls his head to the side so he can see where Zayn is sitting on his bed, covered in nothing but the thin sheet they’d fucked on, with his back propped against the wall. He looks at Zayn with those same eyes that make it feel like the first time and thinks he’s the most beautiful thing in the world and nods.

“I’d follow you anywhere,” Niall says. “I’d follow you to the moon and back. Or maybe not. We could stay on the moon if you wanted… or Mars. Or that asshole Louis’ house.”

Zayn laughs, but Niall’s words stick with him as he takes another hit. He thinks about the weight those words hold and how easily they’d slipped past Niall’s lips. He thinks about how hard it is for him to explain himself sometimes and how Niall can say something so deep and meaningful and still make it feel lighthearted and simple. Like loving Zayn enough to go to the moon and back is just a fact and there’s nothing more to it.

Niall smiles.

“The point is, I’d follow you anywhere.”

And Zayn thinks maybe it is just a fact and it really is that simple.

+

Zayn spots Liam standing off in the distance at his graduation. It’s the same as when Zayn had seen Liam the first time he’d put on a cap and gown. There is this small smile on his face that tells Zayn that Liam is proud and grateful that Zayn is getting this but it’s also sad because Zayn is ending another chapter in his life and starting a new one.

He’s going places Liam may not be able to follow.

Liam looks at Zayn and sees how much he has changed since the last time he’d seen him two years ago; Sees the blond in his hair and the tattoos littering his forearms. He thinks Zayn looks beautiful and free with the enthusiastic blond leaning onto his shoulder.

And Liam misses him.

He misses Zayn so much.

Zayn spots Liam and sees the small, sad smile on his face and everything washes over him like a wave. Liam had always been present, but he had been locked away in the back of Zayn’s mind, trapped in a place where longing for someone who wasn’t there didn’t hurt quite as much.

Seeing him now brings that itch back to the surface of Zayn’s skin.

It brings the itch back and it makes Zayn wonder. He wonders what forever would be like. If he would think up little names, special endearments, that he would save just for Liam. He wonders if they would develop a language, barely noticeable looks and expressions that only the other would understand. Would they have routines? Liam washes the dishes while Zayn dries and hums whatever song he last heard on the radio.

The itch comes back and all Zayn wants is time and he has it, has his whole life ahead of him, but it isn’t enough.

Zayn feels selfish wanting so much. He wants to see the world with Niall; to fly to Africa and see the pyramids or to South America where they can dance and drink without a care in the world. He might want to see Australia and lie out under the stars smoking weed while they try and find constellations.

But Zayn also wants Liam; wants him more than he’s wanted anything in the world because even though travelling and experiencing things he can barely even fathom with Niall is enticing and exciting (and Niall can give him the moon and back and Louis’ roof at two in the morning) Zayn can see an end. He looks at Niall and sees a life with a beginning, middle, and an ultimate ending. He knows he could grow old with Niall. They’ve graduated, they’ll go out and have their worldwide adventure, settle down, maybe adopt a few kids and get a dog, and they’ll get old and gray and die thinking about how great their life together really was.

It’s bittersweet and it’s sort of beautiful and sometimes Zayn thinks it could be the right thing.

Looking at Liam now though, seeing him and feeling that itch, reminds him that with Liam there is no goodbye. There is no bittersweet because it’s forever. He can wake up each morning knowing what it means to be loved and with the comfort that he’ll get to do it again for as long as he wants to. With Liam there is only a beginning. There’s the steady race of his heart whenever their eyes meet and Liam smiles like Zayn is the only thing in the world. There’s the welcome ache in his chest when he sees Liam sitting in his father’s chair, book in hand, and Zayn realizes just how in love he really is and how that should scare him but it kind of doesn’t. It just is.

Zayn smiles and holds up a finger telling Liam to give him a second so he can run over and say hello. He’s just got to tell Niall he’ll be right back, he’s just seen someone he wants to say hi to, and then he’s free to tell Liam everything; that he’s thought about it and maybe he’s just not meant to have a regular life. Maybe he’s meant to have a life with Liam because, when it comes down to it, that’s all he’s ever wanted.

But Liam’s shaking his head and even though he’s not standing all that close, Zayn knows that Liam’s eyes are wet as his lips curve up into an encouraging smile just before he turns around and walks away.

And Zayn misses him even though he’s no more than a few yards away.

He misses Liam so much.

+

They stop at a tattoo shop in Amsterdam. Niall thinks it could be a good idea to get something to remember their trip, something that’s a little bit them and the rest of the world and Zayn smiles and kisses him quickly on the mouth because he thinks it’s a good idea too.

The guy in the shop is tall and skinny and covered in ink, but he has a pair of the brightest brown eyes Zayn has ever seen and he kind of reminds him of Liam. It’s in the way he smiles as he greets them when the little bell above the door jingles as they step inside. It’s the way he walks with a purpose; like every step means something.

It’s not how he says “How’s it going?”, but the way his lips curve around the words.

Niall smiles and waves and says it’s going good “and how are you?” His voice is sweet and kind because that’s how Niall is.

Zayn wanders off, taking in the different designs of tattoos littering the walls while Niall and the tattoo artist chat near the front of the shop. He stops when he spots a photo of a woman with a pocket watch inked on the back of her right shoulder and he remembers the old clock tower they’d spotted in town a few days ago.

Time. Seconds and minutes and days and weeks and months.

It seems to be all Zayn can think about is time and how relative it is and how different lengths of it can mean so many things. He thinks of how knowing someone for a day versus a week can be two entirely different things and how a single second can mean so much more than an entire year.

“See anything you like?” Niall asks, stepping behind Zayn, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn leans back into Niall’s chest and sighs, pushing away the lingering itch for the arm’s so willingly holding him up to belong to someone else. “I’m thinking about a clock,” Zayn says quietly.

“A clock?”

Zayn nods. “Yeah. Something like that one we saw in town before.”

Niall presses his lips to the crook of Zayn’s neck and gives his hips a gentle squeeze before backing up a bit. “And here I was thinking we were going to get matching pot leaves or special brownies.”

And Zayn laughs as his chest grows a little bit tighter because even though Niall sort of already knew, he didn’t bother to ask why.

+

When they get home Niall kisses Zayn hard on the mouth and says something soft about missing him already.

“It’s just a few weeks,” he says. “And then I’ll come back and we can get that shitty apartment we always talked about at school.”

Zayn’s lips quirk up into a smile as he exhales, pressing their foreheads together. He can still see it: Niall waking up early and burning French toast and bringing him cereal in bed because breakfast didn’t go according to plan, playing scrabble on the living room floor and listening to Niall complain because Zayn has a bigger vocabulary and actually enjoys word games, lying in bed, passing a joint back and forth and listening to Niall share stories about his parents that he’s never told anyone else but Zayn and feeling like one of the more important people in the world because Niall doesn’t usually get that sentimental with people.

Zayn can see them growing up and into each other and it’s something he wants with nearly every fiber of his being.

“I miss you already,” Zayn says quietly, stealing Niall’s words.

And Niall nods, not bothering with calling Zayn a thief like he wants to because it will ruin the moment and also because this is one of the times where Zayn is really present and with him and just as in love as he was in the beginning instead of being half with Niall and half somewhere else thinking about time and long lost boys from his childhood.

“Three weeks,” Niall says. “And then it’s us and the rest of our lives.”

Zayn pulls back, takes in Niall’s reddened cheeks and baby blue eyes; that honest smile that goes straight through his bones and tucked away into his heart. “The rest of our lives.”

+

Zayn is surprised by how much he’s missed being home. His mother surprises him with his favorite dinner the first night he gets home and he spends the entire next day playing board games and watching movies with his parents and younger sisters. He thinks it’s nice because for so long it’s been dorm rooms and parties and joints and Niall and while all of that was nice and exciting being home brings a certain calm over Zayn that he doesn’t think he’ll ever find anywhere else.

Also, being home means being with Liam and Zayn would be lying if he said that didn’t make him more than a little happy.

He stops by Liam’s house the first day he has twenty-four-hours to himself. He knocks three times and then Liam is there, standing in front of him, looking just as he did the first day Zayn met him.

And Zayn, well, Zayn looks different. If Liam didn’t know any better he might not have recognized him. Zayn’s hair is a bit longer and he has more tattoos than he did before and he’s taller and a bit leaner than he’d been at graduation. He’s also dressing a bit differently. If there was any way to describe Zayn at that moment Liam might say that he appeared worldlier; like he’s experienced a bit more and as a result Zayn has become a slightly different person. Whether or not that change was for the better, Liam isn’t sure.

“Liam,” Zayn says, his mouth wrapping around the name for the first time in what feels like the first time in forever. He smiles and tilts his head to the side because it really is amazing how much Liam hasn’t changed; how his eyes are still that same chocolate brown that appears so much older than the rest of him, the way he stands so strong and yet has this way of looking so unbelievably fragile.  

“You’re home,” Liam replies. His tone is serious and a bit wary and he looks as though he’s afraid that none of this is real and Zayn is just some mirage his mind has conjured up in order to trick him into feeling better. Because, if Liam is really being honest with himself, he misses Zayn more than he’d ever be able to put into words and even though he’d never say so out loud – or even act on the impulse – all he really wants to do is pull Zayn into his arms and never let go; show him the fountain and let him drink like he’s always wanted to just so Liam would never have to say goodbye again.

“Yeah,” Zayn breathes out, his voice easy and carefree that Liam can tell is one of the side effects of being away for so long. Zayn was always relaxed in a way Liam never was, but this is different. This is Zayn living life without guard – just going through the motions and seeing where things take him. “For a few weeks.”

Liam tries not to let it show, the disappointment he feels, because this is what he’d been telling Zayn to do from the beginning: to live his life and not limit himself to one thing (or person) in one place; to live life and to grow and experience things. Liam knows without Zayn saying a word that he’s going to leave in a few weeks and move on with that guy he met in college: the blond with bright smile and the eyes that look at Zayn with a promise that Liam himself would never be able to keep.

“That’s great,” Liam says, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

Zayn notices and his smile falters a little as he tilts his head to the side. He drinks Liam in a little further, making note of the slight slump to his shoulders and the lingering look of defeat in his eyes just before Liam fixes his mask and smiles a little brighter even though Zayn can tell it isn’t all the way genuine.

“I missed you,” he says and it’s true in the realest sense of the word. Just seeing Liam in the flesh makes Zayn feel as though he’s going to burst and all he really wants to do is touch him; confirm this belief he has that Liam is really here and standing right in front of him.

Liam nods, his face going a little pink as he looks down at his bare feet. “Yeah,” he replies. “I’ve missed you, too.” Then adds. “You’ve changed a bit since I’ve last seen you.”

Zayn looks down at his clothes, grins silently to himself as he glances at the tattoos littering his forearms. He has changed and he knows it – has known it for a while if he’s being honest – and it feels good. Zayn doesn’t feel like the same person he was when he left for college, nor does he feel like the same guy that visited home for the first time. It seems as though every time he comes back to Bradford he feels different and bigger and like he’s grown out of things even though everything still feels familiar and warm. Bradford is still home but it’s not _home._ Time changes things and the clock on Zayn’s lower back reminds him of that fact.

But then there is Liam and Zayn remembers that there are some things that time can never change.

“I have,” he says with a nod.

“That’s good,” Liam replies and he means it even though he feels that sharp pang in his chest that accompanies nearly every thought concerning Zayn and how different everything feels.  It all sort of goes back to the last time they’d really seen each other when Zayn wasn’t even halfway through college and Liam realized that maybe he wasn’t the only thing in Zayn’s universe.

They’re quiet for a moment and then Zayn smiles, soft and sweet, before nodding towards the inside of Liam’s house. “Mind if I come in?” He asks.

Liam glances back inside and then chuckles as he rubs at the back of his neck before stepping aside to allow Zayn into his house. He doesn’t remember being so nervous around Zayn because things had always been so easy between them before Zayn left and Liam became preoccupied with missing him so much and yet constantly finding ways to let him go. They’d had their issues but nothing had ever been hard or forced. Zayn and Liam were honest and real and pretty simple when it came down to it and now things felt different or strained. Perhaps it was just Liam reading into everything a little too much or maybe Zayn had changed more than he or Liam had predicted; or maybe they both had. “Yeah,” he answers. “Of course, come in.”

Zayn steps inside and his eyes slip shut as he breathes in the familiar scent of Liam’s house. Nothing has really changed since he’d left aside from the fact that there are new books scattered across the coffee table along with a few mugs and a pair of slippers sitting next to the couch but those are just signs that Liam is still here and living. It’s comforting to know that Zayn can come back and nothing will have changed. Liam will still be Liam and that’s all there really is.

“I’ve missed this,” Zayn says, turning around to face Liam who is still standing in front of the door. “Being here; seeing you.”

“Yeah?” Liam replies.

Zayn nods. “Of course.”

“I’ve missed it too.” Liam says it against his better judgment. He knows being so open and honest will only lead to falling back into that same routine of getting lost in one another and sharing secrets and never wanting to leave. He knows Zayn will only be here for so long until he’s up and leaving all over again and getting close isn’t going to help anything. Liam knows all of this and yet he still says the words anyways because they’re true and there is no lying to Zayn.

They stand silently together for what should be too long but only feels like a few short seconds. Zayn smiles at Liam thinking about how long he’s waited just to see him up close again and how it didn’t really feel like it had been forever since he’d seen Liam’s face until this very moment. He has this strange smile on his face that Liam can’t really decipher but doesn’t really feels like he needs to because all of the sudden things just feel easy again; like this is how it should be and all they really need to do is go along with it.

“I was going to make myself something to eat,” Liam says, breaking the silence and nodding toward the kitchen. “Wanna join me?”

Zayn’s smile grows a little bit wider as he nods his head. “I’d love to.”

+

Three weeks doesn’t seem like enough.

It’s funny because Zayn misses Niall like he can’t believe but he also feels so wrapped up with Liam and it’s warm and familiar and Zayn never wants to leave.

They spend time by the river like they used to, Liam leaned up against a tree and Zayn seated between his legs with an old book they both used to love. They flip through the pages stopping at their favorite parts and reading them over again for a good laugh or a short discussion about how amazing the writing really is.

They lie in the grass trading illicit kisses that Zayn really doesn’t want to talk about because even though Niall is miles and miles away in Ireland and doesn’t have a clue about Bradford and Liam and just how appealing the idea of forever really is, Zayn can still picture the look that would appear on Niall’s face and the sadness that would fill those pretty blue eyes if he were to ever find out.

But Liam’s lips are still soft and just a little bit chapped and Zayn loves the way Liam’s hands feel gripping just this side of too tight against his hips like Liam thinks he’s going to float away and isn’t quite ready to let go. Niall sort of does the same thing but it isn’t the same. With Niall it’s like he’s holding onto something he simply wants to keep. It’s like Niall simply wants Zayn and that’s all there is to it.

Liam holds Zayn not only like he wants him, but like he isn’t allowed; like at any moment Zayn could disappear or get ripped out of his grasp never to be seen again. Liam holds Zayn like he’s afraid and he’s needy and he’s trying to get all he can while he still has the chance.

But Zayn holds him back, gentle and sure, and tries to say not so much with words but with actions that he’s here and he isn’t going anywhere. That, even though there’s a boy in Ireland who has stolen a bit of his heart, Liam still has a special place that can never be filled by another person only because it was made just for him.

It’s not until one night when they’re lying naked in front of the fireplace, Liam hovering over Zayn with their faces a few short inches apart that Zayn feels he needs to say so out loud. Liam just feels so close and he’s looking at Zayn like he’s trying to memorize every detail of his face just in case Zayn decides to disappear and all Liam will have left is his memories.

“I love you,” Zayn says. It comes out in a single breath that makes it seem like Liam has taken the air straight from his lungs. “Always.”

It’s just what Liam needs to hear as he sort of collapses on top of Zayn, burying his face into the crook of his neck. It’s warm and their bodies are covered in a light sheen of sweat when Zayn wraps his legs and his arms around Liam bring him impossibly closer as he replies with an “I know” and a “Me too.”

For a moment it’s just the two of them lying close and tangled together, breathing in each other’s air until Liam angles himself just right and pushes into Zayn with a barely audible gasp. Zayn’s eyes slip shut and while the stretch is a little more than he’s used to making him feel just this side of uncomfortable, it’s kind of perfect because it’s Liam and this is as close as they can possibly be.

When Liam begins to move Zayn thinks it’s as close to heaven as he’s ever going to get here on earth. It’s not like with Niall when the room is filled with soft exhales of air and muffled giggles and a near forgotten joint sitting in an ashtray a few short feet away. Sex with Liam is poetic. It’s his hands dragging up and down the lines of Zayn’s body, tracing over the tattoos littering his arms and the numbers etched into the clock tower on his back. It’s the barely audible “fuck” that slips past his lips that should sound profane but defies the norms of foul language and sounds blissful and sweet more than anything else.

“Closer,” Zayn whispers. The word almost doesn’t even make it out of his mouth as he pulls Liam in a little further because Zayn feels as though he can’t breathe. Everything is just so much and Liam is pounding into him and it’s rough but it’s also slow and sure and everything Zayn has learned to associate with Liam.

And Liam says “What” in this choked off breath of air as his eyes bore into Zayn’s. The pace he’d had set up falters a little, but Liam picks it back up again as his head drops to Zayn’s shoulder.

Zayn’s body tenses up when Liam thrusts in just right and even though he’s never really believed in God it kind of feels as though he’s died and met Jesus at the gates. He locks his legs around Liam’s waist a little tighter and loops his arms around Liam’s neck just to make sure he can’t go anywhere even though Zayn knows Liam wants nothing more than to stay right where he is.

“Want to feel you closer,” Zayn whispers into Liam’s ear, his breath warm and sending shivers down Liam’s spine. “I never want you to leave,” he says. “I want… I want to stay like this forever.”

And Liam nods, presses himself even further into Zayn with a choked off sob that gets lodged in his throat because this is what he’s been denying himself for so long and he thinks that maybe it’s time that he just gives in.

So Liam holds Zayn as close to his heart as he can possibly get and nods against Zayn’s shoulder as he repeats the words more for himself than anyone else.

“Forever.”

+

It’s when the three weeks are almost over that Zayn isn’t sure of what to do.

Niall texts him every day. Sometimes the messages are short and sweet, just a simple “I love you” with a smiley face attached to the end because this is Niall and Niall is a little bit silly and cute in a way that makes Zayn’s stomach flutter. Other times the messages are a little longer. Niall will send him little anecdotes about his day or ask Zayn a question that really makes him think. It’s one of the things Zayn enjoys most about Niall because he really isn’t as simple as he seems. Niall likes to think about things just as much as Zayn does and it isn’t only when he’s smoking a bowl and feeling extra profound, but it’s all the time. Zayn can spend hours talking to Niall about pretty much anything and while it isn’t the same as it is with Liam (because nothing is ever the same as it is with Liam) it’s nice and Niall has a way of sneaking in little jokes and nudging Zayn’s shoulder and stealing kisses during the lulls in the conversation.

It’s just great and Niall is nice.

And that’s the problem.

Niall loves Zayn a little too easily and Zayn doesn’t think he has it in him to disappoint Niall like that. Niall loves Zayn just as easily as Zayn loves Liam and it’s not like loving Niall is hard because it’s kind of effortless; Niall is just that sort of guy. Zayn just thinks that it’s different and it’s not as intense so much as it is simple.

A life with Niall would be simple and easy and happy. They’d get a dog and Niall would name him something Skippy and they’d adopt kids or maybe set something up with a surrogate and they would be happy and Zayn would be cool with that. They could go on trips and finish seeing the rest of the world and they’d smoke weed and listen to the killers like they used to do in college and they’d be all stupid and nostalgic and Zayn would be happy.

But in-between all of that when the nights were quiet and Niall was asleep or whenever Zayn had a spare moment to himself he knows he’ll think of Liam and afternoons spent by the lake and making love in front of the fireplace and feeling so consumed by another person.

And Zayn would miss him. He would miss him so much.

It’s when he’s thinking about all of this that Liam notices. Zayn can’t really hide anything from Liam and he knows this so he doesn’t really try anymore, but he was still hoping that Liam would let it go if he did notice anything.

“You leave soon,” he says.

Zayn nods. “I’m supposed to.”

“You will.”

“Do you want me to?” Zayn asks and he’s almost afraid of the answer.

Liam shakes his head, looks Zayn straight in the eyes as he answers. “No.”

Zayn nods, adds “Are you going to stop me?”

Liam’s lips form a straight line as he sighs and drags a hand over his hair. He shakes his head and with a defeated shrug of his shoulders says “No.”

That’s kind of when Zayn knows it’s over because Liam isn’t even really willing to fight for him. He won’t make him stay. Zayn feels sort of petty and childish for wanting Liam to throw a fit and put his foot down and tell him to stay in Bradford or else, but he feels as though it’s something that would need to happen. Liam can’t just sit there and watch things pass him by. He deserves to be happy and Zayn feels a little narcissistic for thinking so, but he thinks that maybe he’s the one thing that can really make Liam smile.

“What if I wanted you to though?” Zayn asks and even though his voice sort of small it's no less sure than it would have been if it were louder.

Liam shrugs, looks down at the ground. “I don’t think you’d be going if that were the case.”

It’s kind of a low blow because this is basically Liam telling Zayn that he wants to leave, that Zayn doesn’t want to be here and he’d rather be elsewhere frolicking with a blond Irish boy with pretty blue eyes. And it isn’t like its completely untrue because Zayn wouldn’t mind running around with Niall – he actually enjoys it – but if Liam were to ask him to stay right then and there Zayn would say yes in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t even think twice.

“You know this wouldn’t even be an issue if you would just stop denying yourself the things you want out of life,” Zayn replies flatly.

Liam frowns. “I’m giving you a chance at a normal life,” he says. “I only want you to be happy.”

Zayn sighs. Liam just doesn’t get it He doesn’t get it because he cares too much and doesn’t think about what the other person needs or wants because Liam thinks he knows best.

“And what if I’m happy with you? What if I wanted to stay with you, but feel as though I can’t because you’re constantly pushing me away? What then, Liam?”

“I’m not pushing you away.”

“But you are. I come home and you’re not cold, but you’re distant. You let me in one time and it’s great, but it’s only one night in front of a fireplace and then you’re back to pushing me toward a boy you obviously don’t want me to be with.”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

Zayn sighs. He knows this won’t really go anywhere because Liam is stubborn and Liam always knows best no matter what. It’s one of the things that annoy Zayn to no end, but he can’t bring himself to call Liam out on it because he knows it comes from a good place. Zayn can only imagine how much Liam hurts on a daily basis how much he misses his family and how lonely it must be to feel so stationary, watching everyone move through the many stages of life while he’s stuck at 23. Zayn knows Liam doesn’t want Zayn to feel the pain and heartache he feels himself on a day to day basis, but Zayn also feels as though that’s a choice Liam has to allow him to make for himself. Zayn’s life may be irrevocably tangled within Liam’s, but his life is also still his own and he should be allowed to make his own choices.

“Maybe you should let me decide that for myself,” Zayn replies.

Liam doesn’t say anything. He only shakes his head and steps out of the living room before shutting himself away in his bedroom. Zayn waits for a good fifteen minutes, but when Liam doesn’t come out he figures that he probably isn’t going to.

So Zayn walks out the front door and starts walking toward home.

+

When Niall comes to Bradford it’s bittersweet.

Zayn is happy, he really is, but it feels as though something is missing. When Niall holds him Zayn doesn’t feel quite as safe as he had for the previous three weeks. He doesn’t feel as warm and Niall’s lips pressed against his collarbone don’t feel anything like Liam’s.

“I missed you,” Niall says, soft and sweet and just like he always does. It doesn’t go straight to Zayn’s bones the way it used to before he came home and remembered what he’d been missing, but it still strikes his heart and he can’t help but to smile and press his cheek into Niall’s hair as he whispers of how he’s missed him too.

Niall pulls back and he’s grinning before he presses his lips to Zayn. It’s been too long since he’s tasted the lingering flavor of marijuana on Niall’s tongue, but he also tastes a bit of bubblegum and it makes Zayn laugh against Niall’s lips because he can see him blowing bubbles and popping them as he drove down the highway toward Bradford.

It’s a nice picture because it’s simple and serene and Niall.

It’s not complicated in the way Zayn pictures Liam seated in his living room reading a book and hating himself for loving a boy who made the mistake of loving him back. The image is no less beautiful than the one Zayn has of Niall with the wind blowing through his hair and a giant pink bubble a few seconds away from bursting in front of his face – in fact Zayn may go as far as to say it’s a little prettier – it’s just that it’s sad because Zayn doesn’t think loving Liam is a mistake the way Liam does.

It’s just a fact. Plain and simple.

And Niall has no idea because Niall is trusting and loving and would go to the end of the world and back if Zayn asked him to.

“I saw the apartment,” Niall says with a nervous smile when he steps back, shoving his hands into his pockets. He gets this way when he’s feeling a bit shy, like he isn’t sure he and Zayn are on the same page or not but he’s hoping.

It’s times like these when Zayn thinks that Niall knows. He’s sure that he does because Zayn has a tendency to get lost and forget and sometimes he wonders if he loves Niall as much as he thinks he does or if he’s only doing it because it’s what Liam thinks that he wants. But then he looks at Niall and Zayn can see and feel just how much Niall loves him and Zayn thinks that it must be real on some level because things like this can’t be fake.

“You did?”

Niall nods and kicks at a lonesome rock near his shoes. “Yeah,” he answers. “It’s not too far from here, you know? And I kind of just stopped by on my way down.”

“How was it?” Zayn asks.

Niall can’t help his smile as he meets Zayn’s eye. “It’s kind of shitty and the neighbors are kind of rude, but it has a kick ass roof and the view from the living room window isn’t too bad.” Niall pauses and looks back down at his feet before sneaking a peak at Zayn through his lashes. “It’s us.”

It’s then that Zayn sort of gets it.

He’s always understood why Liam wanted this for him in words. Zayn knew that Liam wanted him to live a normal life with someone who loved him and understood him. HE wanted Zayn to have kids and grow old and live and love. Zayn understood this in words but no so much in feeling, but now he kind of does. He doesn’t necessarily like it because Zayn knows he could be just as happy – or even happier – with Liam forever, but Zayn understands.

They’re both stubborn, he and Liam, and there isn’t really any getting around that. Their lives would be beautiful together, but they’d also be tumultuous because Liam constantly hates himself and some part of Zayn always hates Liam. And while that’s fine, while Zayn doesn’t mind any of that because any life with Liam is better than no life with him at all, he still understands.

Zayn looks at Niall and he can feel it in his bones how happy he could be and he wants it. He’d merely settled with it before and had accepted it for what it was and thought it would be nice and wonderful and free, but now Zayn can taste it and it’s almost just as good.

He can see the rooftop to their shitty apartment and smell the burning ramen noodles on the stove. He can see them maybe sneaking in a dog and trying to keep it quiet whenever someone knocks on the door and lying in the living room with the television on low as they pass a joint back and forth.

Zayn can see them tangled in sheets with Niall’s head pillowed against his shoulder while he snores a little too loud, but Zayn won’t mind because the sound is kind of soothing. It reminds him that someone is there and that someone loves him despite his selfishness and all of the other faults Zayn doesn’t really care to list.

Zayn can feel the way Niall loves him and it doesn’t hurt the way it does with Liam.

And that’s why Liam wants him to go and even though Zayn isn’t sure than he wants to he knows that he should and he understands.

Zayn smiles, closes the distance between them as he wraps his arms around Niall and pulls him close. He smells laundry detergent masking the weed and Ireland and it’s almost perfect. “It sounds wonderful,” he says into Niall’s shoulder.

Liam wants him to be happy and Niall can do that if Zayn will let him.

“I love you,” Niall says, easy and plain as day.

Zayn thinks he will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there shall be an epilogue :)


	4. Epilogue

There’s a knock on his door and when he opens it Zayn is standing in the rain holding a duffel bag. He’s wearing something that’s a cross between a smile and a frown and Liam thinks this moment is more bittersweet than anything because Zayn is back but that also means things didn’t go quite according to plan.

Zayn isn’t happy but he isn’t sad and Liam isn’t sure of what to do.

“You’re back,” he says, stating the obvious.

Zayn nods. “Yeah.”

“For good?”

Zayn shrugs. “I don’t know,” he says. “Depends on whether or not you decide to let me in or not.”

And Liam’s lips curve up into an involuntary smile that is more than welcome on both ends as he steps aside and allows Zayn into the living room.

+

Zayn and Niall spend three years together.

The first year Zayn spends working in a bookstore while Niall tries his hand at playing shows at coffee shops and opening for little known bands in shitty night clubs. They spend the weekends holed up in the living room of their cheap apartment that Zayn kind of loves more than anything even though the heater doesn’t work and the laundry room smells like piss and eggs. It’s just that it’s sort of cozy and quirky in the same way he is with Niall and it sort of fits.

The second year Niall stumbles upon a puppy in the park and he brings it home. They name him Jeeves because he has a patch around one eye that sort of reminds Zayn of a monocle and Niall is sort of high at the time and says something about monocles being classy as fuck so this dog needs a name with esteem. They’re still pretty broke and can’t really afford a dog, but they make it work and Niall and Zayn are happy.

But then the third year rolls around and Zayn and Niall are pushing twenty-six and Niall is sort of ready to move on from shitty apartments and midnight shows and Zayn is feeling sort of stuck because while he wants more out of life in the same way Niall does he isn’t sure he’s ready. Moving on means growing up and growing up means growing old and that only reminds Zayn of brown eyes and strong arms and a drink that could last forever.

And Zayn wants forever. No matter how much he tells himself he’s fine with a lifetime, he knows he wants more.

Niall can feel it too – he always had but he figured it was something that would pass. Niall had always had this itching feeling that there was something – or someone – holding Zayn back but they were young and Niall was in love and he was hoping that Zayn would grow out of it and realize that, to Niall, he was the sun and the moon and everything in between and perhaps that could be enough.

But three years later and Zayn still has that faraway look in his eyes that he only gets when he thinks Niall isn’t looking (but Niall is always looking) and it hurts even more because three years later and Niall still isn’t enough.

It isn’t messy and Niall is sweet and kind and sad and Zayn feels terrible because this really should be enough. The look in Niall’s eyes when he sees Zayn first thing in the morning should be enough to make Zayn want to stay and try for a lifetime of hand rolled joints and stolen kisses and Jeeves running circles around their feet in the living room. It should be enough to sit in the front row of a coffee shop while Niall sings a song about falling in love on a rooftop in college.

But it isn’t and Zayn is beginning to realize that maybe it takes more than loving someone enough.

Niall kisses him and says that he loves him.

Zayn takes his hand and tells Niall he’s sorry.

+

They don’t talk about it at first.

Mostly because Liam doesn’t think that it’s real and because Zayn doesn’t really want to get into it. Liam knows though, why Zayn is there and what made him come back, and that’s enough in the beginning. It matters but it isn’t something that needs to be discussed right away. They just want to enjoy each other without worrying about whys and hows.

“I missed you,” Zayn says one morning when he wakes up in Liam’s bed with an old comforter pulled up to his chin.

Liam hums next to him, further entwining their legs under the blankets and tightening his grip around Zayn’s naked waist. The words are the same as they were the last time Zayn had said them when he’d been home just before he’d gone only this time it’s different because Zayn is staying. He’s simply stating a fact that had once been true but won’t be ever again because Zayn is back and he isn’t leaving.

Liam cracks an eye open when he feels Zayn’s lips against his nose. His lips quirk up into a smile that causes the corners of his eyes to crinkle up and Liam is completely and irrevocably in love. “Me too,” he says. “But I don’t think that matters anymore.”

It’s when Zayn finds one of Niall’s guitar picks in the back pocket of his favorite jeans that the whys and the hows become a topic of conversation.

He doesn’t expect the sadness that washes over him upon finding the tiny piece of plastic, but it happens and Zayn feels sort of lost because he knows he’s home, but it also sort of feels like he’s on vacation.

“He knew,” Zayn mumbles when he and Liam are curled up on the couch together, Liam rubbing soothing circles into Zayn’s back. “That I loved you more. I don’t think he knew it was you, but he knew it was someone and that he wasn’t enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Liam says and it’s true because as much as he’s glad to have Zayn back he’d also wanted Zayn to be happy.

Zayn shrugs. “I think it was for the best and that even though you may want it to work out, some things aren’t meant to be.”

When he looks at Liam it’s everything being said all at once without either of them having to speak the words out loud. Its Zayn saying “I told you so” and that maybe he and Liam are worth a shot; maybe they are forever and Liam should give Zayn that chance. Its Liam realizing that maybe Zayn was right: that as much as he wants to protect Zayn and do what he feels best, maybe Zayn should be allowed to make that decision for himself. It’s Liam realizing that he deserves happiness just as much as Zayn does and maybe the only way they can find that is within each other.

Liam nods, pulling Zayn further into himself. “I think you’re right.”

+

“I’m older than you,” Zayn says one morning as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

And Liam says “Huh?”

Zayn grips his mug with both hands as he blows cool air over the hot liquid. “Not technically, but I’m older than you.”

And it’s true because while Liam’s stuck at twenty-three, Zayn’s a few months past twenty-six.

Neither of them say it, but they both know what it means. Zayn may only be twenty-six, but that’s still three years past Liam’s twenty-three and Zayn is only getting older. Its three years right now, but three will soon turn to ten which will lead to twenty and it’s only going up from there.

It doesn’t matter now, but it will when Zayn is old and gray and dying.

Liam only nods, watches as Zayn’s lips curve around the rim of his mug. “Yeah,” he says. “I suppose you are.”

They’ll talk about it later.

+

The thing is they don’t.

They never talk about it because things are good and neither of them wants to ruin it. Zayn doesn’t want to ask about where the fountain is and whether or not Liam will take him because he knows how much Liam resents it. Zayn knows how Liam resents eternity and how he sometimes looks at the clock on Zayn’s lower back and hates just how much he and the ink have in common.

Like the clock on Zayn’s back Liam is stuck, frozen at one point in time. But the rest of them, all of the others keep on ticking until the batteries run out and they’re all put to rest.

Sometimes, when it’s late and Liam thinks he’s the only one awake, Zayn will feel him tracing the lines of the clock, his fingers tickling the skin where the big hand reaches the two or the tiny, barely noticeable freckle just below the roman numeral representing the nine.

Zayn will feel it and he’ll wonder just how lonely Liam must have felt spending all those nights alone and having all the time in the world. He thinks about how much time has changed things, how it’s relative and what that all means. He thinks about how time is the one thing Zayn wants more than anything and yet it’s the one thing Liam wishes he could give up.

They each want what the other one has and it’s for both all of the right and all of the wrong reasons and neither of them are willing to speak up.

And then it’s just too late because one year turns into two and now Zayn is twenty-eight and Liam is lighting candles and singing happy birthday in that sad, beautiful voice that is tinged with just a little bit of happiness because Zayn is halfway toward having the life he’s always wanted.

It’s a life with Liam, but it’s one that they both know will eventually come to an end and as each day passes them by neither of them has ever been more aware of time and how sweet it really is and how little of it they really have.

+

They don’t waste it.

Zayn paints pictures and sells them at a local gallery and every now and then he’ll write something for a local magazine that publishes small time authors. He spends afternoons by the river fishing with Liam and jotting down notes in a small notepad he keeps in his back pocket and sometimes, when the light hits Liam’s face just right and his smile is bright the way it used to be when Zayn was young and fresh and barely starting out in life, he’ll sketch Liam the way he’ll always want to remember him.

Liam enjoys Zayn the way he never enjoyed his family and all the people he’d loved before he’d run into that strange beautiful little boy burying the dead bird in his front yard. He doesn’t take things for granted and commits every detail of every day to memory so he’ll never forget. He memorizes every inch of ink and every freckle on Zayn’s skin and makes note of all the different smiles Zayn has for every occasion. He memorizes Zayn’s little habits that he never really noticed before – like the way he has to have his bananas sliced paper thin when he puts them into his cereal each morning or the way he blows on his coffee three times (no more and no less) before he takes the first sip.

Liam does his best to remember everything and he tries his best not to think about why because he still has time.

+

“It’s gray,” Zayn says one morning when he pads into the living room in a pair of Liam’s pajama pants that are just a tad too big.

Liam looks up from the book he’s reading and raises his brows. “What?”

“My hair,” Zayn answers. “It’s going gray. Do you see it? At the temples? It’s fucking gray.”

Zayn is barely a month past thirty-five – over ten years past Liam’s twenty-three and neither of them can believe it’s been so long – and going gray is something to be expected, but it’s still kind of shocking and only further reminds Zayn of his age.

Liam stands, drops the book onto the chair he’d been sitting in and approaches Zayn. He takes a closer look toward the roots of his hair and sure enough there’s a bit of gray peeking out through the black. He finds himself grinning despite the fact that this only means Zayn is getting older and chuckles at how distressed Zayn is feeling about it all.

“Who’s the old man now?” Liam jokes, pressing a kiss to Zayn’s forehead, then to his lips before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about it; it looks good on you.”

+

 Later on Zayn starts to feel the parts of age that Liam never did.

He gets tired easier.

His doesn’t see as well as he used to and sometimes Liam has to repeat himself a few times before Zayn actually hears him.

When Zayn hits fifty his doctor tells him he has arthritis in his hands and even though Zayn never says so much in words, Liam knows it kills him because an artist is his hands and pretty soon Zayn won’t be able to use his.  

This all happens over time and it’s not until Zayn’s mother dies that Liam realizes the severity of it all and how little time he really has left.

Liam doesn’t go to the funeral because it isn’t really his place and Zayn’s family doesn’t really know about him anyways. He also knows it would be odd for him to show up looking the same as he did almost forty years earlier.

But when Zayn comes home his face is even sadder than it had been before he’d left and Liam thinks it’s all due to the fact that he’d just lost his mother, but when Zayn looks up and his eyes meet Liam’s he knows it’s more.

“Zayn,” Liam says and then Zayn is shaking his head and crossing the room, wrapping tired arms around Liam’s shoulders and pressing his face into the crook of his neck.

“I don’t want to do that to you,” he whispers. “I don’t want to go and leave you here the way my mom did to my father.”

Liam can feel the slump in Zayn’s shoulders and the strength in the hold Zayn has on his body that isn’t really there anymore because sometimes it hurts to grip Liam so tight. Liam can feel all the differences that age has brought on to the way they interact, but Zayn’s voice is still the same and so is his heart and Liam doesn’t want him to go either.

“I looked at him and he was so lost without her,” Zayn says. “He was so sad and lost and all I could think about was you and I – I don’t want to do that to you. I can’t do that to you again.”

“You can,” Liam says, his voice breaking as he pulls out of Zayn’s grasp so he can see him properly. His eyes are wet before he even knows that he’s crying. “You can and you will because you deserve it.”

Zayn shakes his head, holds Liam’s face in his hands before leaning forward and pressing their lips together in a kiss that is more of a promise than anything else.

“I want forever,” Zayn says. “With you.”

Liam knows the answer is simple. All he has to do is take Zayn a few miles into the woods and let him drink. It’s a simple ingestion of liquid and then it’s just the two of them forever.

But Liam only smiles and presses their foreheads together. He looks at Zayn and he doesn’t see an old man who has just lost his mother and realized just how finite life really is. He sees the fresh, young boy with an obnoxious shock of blond in his hair and tattoos littering his skin and the brightest eyes and the kindest smile Liam has ever seen.

Liam kisses Zayn once, twice, and three times for good measure.

“We have time.”

+

 Liam wakes up one Tuesday morning and Zayn is still sleeping.

He goes into the kitchen and starts a pot of coffee before stepping outside to grab the morning paper.

When he’s done reading the headlines the coffee is ready.

Liam pours Zayn a cup and takes it to their bedroom and sets it on the nightstand.

He shakes Zayn’s shoulder once, twice, presses a kiss to his hair and calls out his name.

Zayn doesn’t wake up.

.He was eighty-five.

+

The first few days Liam doesn’t think it’s real.

He tells himself that Zayn has only gone to visit his family for a few days because he liked to do that sometimes; stay connected.

When a week goes by and Zayn still isn’t back Liam tells him it’s only like before when Zayn had run off with Niall. Zayn was still here, he just wasn’t there and Liam could live with that because it meant Zayn was still breathing and happy and living.

But then Zayn’s things start collecting dust and Liam finds little reminders that Zayn had been around and that he wasn’t out visiting family and he hadn’t left.

Zayn had just died and Liam was alone.

Pills are first.

He uses Zayn unfinished bottle of pain meds and runs to the store for a bottle of whiskey. Liam spends the night in front of the fireplace wrapped up in a blanket popping pills, drinking booze, and singing all of Zayn’s old favorite songs.

He wakes up the following morning in a pool of his own vomit nursing a violent headache he doesn’t think will ever leave.

Liam hangs himself next.

He fashions himself a noose and hangs himself from the ceiling fan in his bedroom. It’s a few short moments before his breathing is cut short and just as he’s about to pass out Liam thinks he might be dying.

But then he wakes up on the floor two hours and with killer rope burn around his neck and a cramp in his left leg from the fall.

Liam shoots himself in the head (holds the gun to his temple to make sure he doesn’t miss) but that only makes a mess and the wound took too long to heal.

Trying and failing only makes him miss Zayn more and each time he comes back Liam only remembers how disappointed Zayn would be at him working so hard to end it all.

It’s just that Liam feels empty in a way he never has before. He’d known loss, but he’d never felt as though a part of him had been ripped from his chest. It’s like his heart is missing, like a part of him died when Zayn did, only Liam is still breathing and he’s stuck.

When it becomes clear that he isn’t going anywhere, Liam climbs into Zayn’s side of the bed and hugs his pillow close while he cries.

Believe it or not, it still smells like him.

Liam wonders how much time it will take for the scent to fade.

+

A year later and Liam is sitting by the river. The sun feels warm against his skin and he’s flipping through one of Zayn’s old sketch books.

It’s funny because it’s just as he remembers it. He can still see Zayn curled up against the tree watching him with eyes that Liam can literally feel tracing the lines of his body. It had never bothered him before, but now it kind of does because Zayn isn’t curled up against that tree and the ache in Liam’s chest is still just as raw as it had been the day Zayn died.

But just as the hole in his head had, and the rope burns that Liam can still feel around his neck every time he closes his eyes and thinks back to the ceiling fan and the harsh fall to the floor, all wounds will eventually heal.

He just has to give it time.

It’s just that sometimes things get too quiet and Liam remembers a night spent in front of a fireplace with a boy who had held Liam closer to his heart than he’d ever thought a person could get. And that boy had asked Liam to stay with him – to never leave.

Zayn had asked for forever and even though Liam had wanted to say yes, he’d let him go.

And now Liam is sitting alone flipping through pages of drawings penned by the hand of a young, beautiful boy who could be sitting right there with him if Liam had only given him the chance.

Liam should have been selfish and given Zayn forever.

Instead they’d both only gotten a lifetime and Liam can’t help but to feel as though that wasn’t enough.

But Zayn had laughed and loved and lost. He accomplished his dreams and he’d met a boy in college who loved him to the moon and back. Zayn had made his share of mistakes and broken a few hearts while having his own broken in the process. Zayn had loved Liam fearlessly and effortlessly and they’d had a lifetime together.

Zayn had lived and, even though Liam has a hard time admitting it now, that’s all he’d ever wanted for him.

It’s just that forever is a long time to be without someone and Liam is having a hard time adjusting.

But Zayn had still given him a lifetime, something Liam never thought he’d have, and it was beautiful and wonderful and everything he could have ever asked for.

It’s something Liam can lie back in the grass and think about and sometimes he’ll laugh, others he’ll cry, and sometimes Liam will just remember.

Because he can do that.

Because he has time. 


End file.
